leaving with a broken heart.

I left the big band dance with a broken heart. I hoped that I wouldn't see him, but I did. I thought I was over him, or at least could get over him soon, but tonight was the worst. There he was, dancing with his new girlfriend, kissing her and having the time of his life.
And there I was, sadly and pitifully watching. If he had done something wrong to me to make me hate him, getting over him would have been easy. But he didn't.
He's possibly the nicest guy I've ever known. So I can't be mad. But I can be hurt. And I wish I could cry, and sob, and weep until I die of this broken heart. I wish I could talk to someone and tell them how I feel. But no one knows.
I wish I didn't have to feel. I wish I didn't fall in love so quickly. And it was love that I felt; where it seemed as if my heart beat only for him, and now I wish it didn't beat anymore. I guess I'll have to get used to hurt. Maybe it will become a part of me.