A Horrible Day in Some Awesome Shoes

So, the day started out like this...
Oh, yeah, my shoes are awesome. I'll get a picture put up pretty soon of them. I drew on them myself!
Anyway, the day started out normal.
Wait, this was February, 2008, a week after Valentine’s Day. Just to clarify.
It was very normal. I got up at like three in the morning to watch Adult Swim in all its brain melting glory. I got dressed and put on my favorite shoes, ready to face the day!
I got on the bus and sat alone for the two hour ride to my school. About 45 minutes later, my boyfriend, Matt, texts me all cheerful and morning-person-like. Just like always.
I got to the school and walked to the cluster of buildings that was our fine arts, music, dance, media and performing arts departments that made up the Center for the Arts. My fine arts department was at the entrance, with Matt’s music department opposite from it. We went through our ritual hugs and then effort to stop me from shivering in the cold, as we were in the courtyard of the Center. He walked me to the first five of my classes as he insists on doing, going to the center and the main building since our schedule classes are very close together.
It was after fifth period and time for lunch, the only period we had together. We were sitting on the ground for most of the period, and we were talking to everyone in our area, the Alley, a corridor off the side of the cafeteria and courtyard of the main building.
It was all business as usual, until he got this look on his face and moved away from the spot suddenly. He sat with his back to me and started playing his guitar, playing some sort of sad melody that could have made me cry.
So I just sat there like a statue, wondering what was wrong, what could have made him look so upset. No one else could tell, but he was just far enough away, turned slightly more than usual, face slightly more rigid. Only I knew him well enough to be able to tell, besides his little brother and parents.
He walked me to my next class, and didn’t even say goodbye, walking fast in the direction of his class, even though he had like eight minutes to get into the next hallway. I worried my way through the class, pissing off my teacher without realizing it.
I met him in the usual spot for the last period of the day, and he just kept talking to my teacher, who he had freshman year.
By the way, I was a freshman, and he was a sophomore.
Right before the bell rang, he said to me, “I don’t know. I need to think some about ‘us.’”
Well, I looked confused, I guess, since my friend kept asking me what was wrong. I told her that Matt said something, but that I wanted to figure it out before I told her, that it was probably nothing.
I waited for him after class, but he didn’t come. My teacher had to warn me that the buses were going to leave before I realized that he wasn’t coming. I looked down while running to the bus, hoping no one would see how upset I was.
It was about half an hour till I got home, and there were three other people on the bus. I got a text that said, “Just because I’m breaking up with you, doesn’t mean you can kill yourself. Or go lesbian, either.”
Just to tell you, I went out with a girl that I loved, who died and I became completely and utterly straight, which I realize now was a lie.
I sent back, “Are you breaking up with me?” He said yes, and I cried.
It wasn’t until months later that he told me why he did. It was because he never loved me at all, even though he said it dozens of times a day, told everyone that he did. He told everyone that I was stalking him, that I wouldn’t stop texting and calling him. To stop talking to me. To start hating me. And the worst part is that they believed him. Even all of my friends did.
I guess I know who my real friends are.
But then again, most of them take advantage of me. Well, go figure?
I still have those shoes, and wear them every day. I’ve never loved them more then when he said he hated them.