Split wide open

I was recently the touchstone for a boy with ex-syndrome real bad, to my unfortunate surprise. I became his girlfriend, and it was magical for three weeks. The ex made an unexpected visit to his room at four in the morning, crying to him because she wanted him back. He didn't take her back, but we broke up. I was overstressed and it became worse one night when I saw him with her. I didn't like the pressure. He withheld the past from me, and therefore lost all chance of ever gaining me back. For three weeks hence, I cried to myself, cried to friends, cried to family, and cried to my roommate about the overwhelming pain of betrayal. He dropped out of college, and I was left to figure out how exactly he fucked me over. This is a piece I did about my pain and loss, yet my euphoria for God sending me a lesson I needed to learn. The lyrics come from a song by shiny toy guns titled "Rainy Monday".

Thanks to