Did you mean it?” I managed to ask.

Of course she meant it. She was not trying to be funny when she told me she was ashamed of me, that’s why she never told her friends how I creep into her bed and make her moan on multiple occasions.

‘I meant it to an extent,’ she replied truthfully.

I was hurt when she said it during the fight. This time it didn’t matter because I had wrapped the idea that she was any good into vainglory when her words pierced through my skin.

“Did you mean it?” I asked myself. Of course I did. I was not playing when I told her she was the biggest downgrade of all time. And it was not because she was not as pretty as she believes but because she was way too much of a trashy person that the only thing I could love her for was the good head.

“To be brutally honest I had to stoop down, morally, intellectually just to be friends with your shallow head.”

A week later.

“Sorry, I hurt your feelings,” her cathartic voice whispered through the phone.

“I am sorry too,” I whispered back.

She must have despised me. I am quite sure I hated her. Oh, maybe it was a twisted declaration of love, because here we are back to where we began. Texting. Saying the lightest things to each other. Not I love you. We can’t afford that…that is too strong , it will tear us apart. It will ruin what we have. More like “Let me talk you to sleep.”

“I will call you in ten mins.”

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