I felt like a thirteen year old with a crush. All I ever did was think about her and fantasise about her, wonder what she was doing or if she was thinking about me too. Only to remember that even if by some miracle her thoughts fell on me from time to time, I’d done a bang up job of making sure that every single one of them would be filled with hate. So as far as hopeless crushes went, I was pretty much fucked. She didn’t want me. And that should have been the end of it but of course it fucking wasn’t.
