Why did I never ask him? Why did I just run? Why didn’t I go back to him, hold his face in my hands, and demand that he tell me why he was pushing me away? Why didn’t I refuse to leave, refuse to accept that that night meant nothing to him when I knew it meant something to me? Another pang of guilt found me when I realized where my thoughts were wrapped up again. Because I understood why Tyler did what he did, but it didn’t absolve him in my mind. It pissed me off. I was furious for him, for me, for what we maybe could have had.
