“It’s alright, he’s suck a jerk, he doesn’t deserve you.”

All the right words. Everything perfect. Exactly what a person should say when something like this happens to their best friend. It’s the perfectly normal response.

But I am not a normal person. Never have been, never will be. And while I am glad to have such a friend, to say such a thing, at a time such as this, I cannot make myself feel better after hearing it. Because all I can think about is how I don’t believe it, and how he was not a jerk, not by a long shot, and how he did deserve me, I just didn’t deserve him.

I know, somewhere in the back of my mind, that in no way would he ever mean to hurt me, but that is not enough to stop the angry tears running down my cheeks. I’m trying to cry silently and softly, so that no one may hear what I am doing, so that they may not guess what had just happened.

I am forced to wipe my tears, as I have to leave now, and I refuse to walk outside looking like this, with red, puffy eyes and black make-up streaks all over my face. By the time I walk out of the darkness and into the lighted hallway, no one can tell that I had just been crying.

It is cold outside, so no one questions why I am shaking. My cheeks turn red from the cold, so it masks the blush I had gotten earlier tonight. It is as if this is the way Mother Nature is trying to comfort me, by helping me mask my unwanted symptoms. If nothing else, I am grateful for that.

On the phone with friends later that night. They are all trying to comfort me in their own way, saying how sorry they are and how they are going to kill him next time they see him for doing this to me. Again, all the right words for a situation such as this. All the normal things. But, as I am not a normal person, it does nothing to help me.

I have to say goodnight now, as my parents might get suspicious. And the last thing I want is for them to find out. That would put me and him in danger. Thinking fast of a lie to hade the new wave of tears, I tell my mother I got make-up remover in my eye. She buys it with ease. If nothing else, I can lie with the best of them.

Later, when the house is dark and quiet, and all the inhabitants are asleep, I am free to let the tears fall. I bury my face in my pillow, muffling my few sobs that I simply cannot stop. If nothing else, I am reacting like a normal person would; experiencing the same feelings of pain and despair.

Somehow, life goes on. He still remains my friend, something I am grateful for. That night becomes one of the past, still haunting me every now and again, but usually only remaining a blurry memory. I know it will probably happen again, with some different guy, on some different night. Maybe the rolls will be switched this time. Maybe not. At least this time I have experience on how to deal with it.