“We can still be friends.” “No, Hugh, we can’t,” she replied sadly, entwining her fingers with mine. “You can’t be friends with the person you’re in love with.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “And I’m always going to be in love with you, Hugh.” I believed her. I knew this girl better than I knew myself. I could hear her truth. I could see it in her eyes. It mirrored mine. I knew how she felt because I felt the same way. It was a hopeless, desperate, frantic feeling. It was fucking torture.
