"Go away!" you sob from the other side of the locked door and hiding your head under a pillow to muffle his pounding fists against the door. You’re silently hoping that the door doesn’t shatter from your ex-boyfriend’s impact because he is quite strong.

Chains of events have never rolled in your favor. Everything goes downhill. First, your job is at stake. Second, you’re constantly being judged by your parents who were your number one supporters in any type of situation. Third, your idol-boyfriend has recently confirmed the rumors of him being in a relationship that wasn’t you.

It’s all over the tabloids and the Internet and not only did you come home from taking an extra shift out of good heart, you also had to go to sleep with the article running through your mind.

That two-timing bastard.

"I love you!" you can hear him yell through the door. Your eyes shut close and your hands clutch the pillow tighter, your nails digging into the linen, possibly breaking it. It’s all a dream, you tell yourself, pressing your head deeper into the blanket. It’s all a dream, your ex-boyfriend isn’t at the door trying to woo you back.

There’s muffled shouting piercing through the light sound barrier but you don’t even bother to try to make out what he’s saying, it’s all useless, just words thrown out of the tongue to return to what people call normal.

It’s the little things that you should have noticed like late nights or giddy smiles on random days. Or big things like the odd blend of tacky perfume and his cologne on his shirts and claimed schedule days when the others say they’re on a free day.

He convinced you he would change himself in the beginning. He said he wouldn’t cheat, wouldn’t two-time, wouldn’t think about those thoughts and go through the adrenaline of it all.

After all, history repeats itself, doesn’t it?

A last thud is heard against the door, and you realize the force is too big for a fist, and it turns out he’s sitting on the other side, waiting for you to open it. Everything’s quiet now, his apologies flowing through the crack under the door and bouncing off your pillow that’s still over your head. They’re just white lies…

The betrayal has ripped through you continuously, sending hot tears to your eyes and your heart to your throat to where it’s hard to breathe, hard to believe that everything was just alie.

It’s too much for one night, you think while stripping yourself of your clothes and changing into your pajamas before burying yourself under the blankets as if they can shield you from the outside world.

I don’t know what I’m doing, or where I’m going, or how I’m feeling, or what’s going on. All I know is that I’ve lost myself.

And I don’t know where to pick up after myself.