He counted to three then started to bleed. He lost the need to hold on. She was the air that he breathed. He knew it would kill him if she leaved, but the massacre went on.
Blaming himself for her pain he threw the bottle against the wall. Screaming in agony he should have never called. Why couldn't she make up her mind? Does she love him like she says all the time?
Laying on his bed, the sheets stained with blood. There would never be another whom he loved. The pain went to far. His heart became a scar. Why wasn't he dead right now? Did he not cut deep enough somehow?
She was with that other guy though, not him. What he wanted to do shouldn't have mattered to them. Obscene thoughts raced through his head. He stood up, felt dizzy, then fell back on the bed. He thought he had nothing to live for as he closed his eyes. He saw only her face among it all, yet he still never realized.
