Earthquake

I don't love you like I loved you yesterday.

That was a lie. That is a lie.

I love Frank Iero.

It's said that when you love someone you want them to be happy, and it's true. I saw how I hurt him, how he suffered because of me. It was all my fault. The only way I could make him happy again was too leave. So I did.

I stood there in the cheap hotel room, staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.

I hate myself. I hate my beauty. Maybe if I was ugly he never would have fallen in love with me. Then I never would have hurt him.

I opened all the bathroom drawers, searching. There. I smiled as I pulled out what I had been looking for. Scissors.

I raised the scissors to my hair, clenched my teeth, and cut. Tears feel with each tress of hair.

Was I cutting away my old life? I hoped so. I wanted to cut him out of my life and cut myself from his. Not because I hated him, but because I loved him.

I put the scissors down and looked back into the mirror. My hair was short and choppy.

Was I ugly now?

I'll be off to find another way.