Postcards and Polaroids

I was sobbing not even five minutes down the road. I pulled over, and hid my face in my knees. I had finally broken down. My chest hurt. I was breathing heavy, and the tears were falling harder than ever. This is the last thing I wanted. He didn’t want me anymore. I tried catching my breath. It was no use.
I kept crying. The tears seemed to pour from my eyes. My cries became louder the longer I thought about it. I needed him. I needed Kellin. I felt my ring finger, freshly bare. My chest hurt even more. I had thrown away my ring. I’m so stupid. And worst of all, he didn’t come after me. He wanted me to leave. He didn’t want me on the tour with him. I sobbed harder. My eyes began to sting. I needed him. I needed him to hold me, and tell me it was going to be okay. But it wasn’t. I ruined everything, all because I was jealous.
I replayed him yelling at me, over and over. It hurt more every time. He was my everything. I needed him. I could never find anyone else. I never would find anyone else. Because no one could measure up to him. He was perfect, and I let him slip away. Just like that. I ran my fingers through my hair. I was sweating, and my heart was racing. I tied up my hair, and leaned against the steering wheel. I tried again to catch my breath. I managed to somewhat calm myself down.
Now, everything was just perfect. He’d go away on tour, and have any girl he wanted. Any girl, the most beautiful girl he wanted, he could have her. And I’m sure she’d be able to have the baby he’d always wanted. I started crying again.
He deserved so much better than me. The pains in my chest came back, and the tears fell fast. Kellin deserved the best. And I wasn’t the best.
I wasn’t even close.