It's been a little over a year now.

(The timing is going backwards, but I like it that way.Kinda long...)

It was a little over a year now, and the wound was still as fresh as before. She sat at her computer, mesmerized by the folder open.
"frendz" it read. she opened the sub folder and there it was. Her. That girl that tore her to pieces. That girl stood there smiling at her through the computer. She didnt miss a beat, she clicked the exit button and proceeded to breathe heavily. She was holding it in. She hated to cry. Especially after a year.

It was a little less than a year, and she watched the flames consume the memories of her past. That notebook filled with inside jokes, those pictures she so carefully placed on her wall at one time, all those cards and letters and notes she ever recieved from that girl, it all went up in smoke. She watched it with emotion flooding through her veins. It was like a slow moving car crash to see her. You knew what was about to happen, but you couldnt turn away. So she cried. She cried and shouted to the sky that it just wasnt fair. She lit another match and then dropped it into the pile of what was now her worst nightmare. She put out the fire and threw it all away. She hoped that would be the last of that girl she would ever see. She hated crying over someone that would never cry over her.

It was a little over six months now, and she walked through the halls of her high school without crying. Everyday, on her way to math class she saw her. That girl that she hated. That girl stared back at her for only a split second before breaking the tense glance to speak to her new friends. Friends that wouldnt ever compare to the love she once had been the object of. On her way to class, she saw that girl she hated. She tried not to scream, she hated this spite she harbored for her.

It was a little over a month now, and she cried herself to sleep. Every nite, without fail, she was up until all hours rocking herself to sleep. She hated to cry. She got up and went to her mother's room. She started to scream. Why was she so miserable and that girl got everything she wanted?! Her mom tried to calm her down. Her mom, the only constant she really had left back then. She went to the garage and began to cry and rock back and forth against the car. It was too much. A cat came up and rubbed against her legs. She pet him and stopped crying for the moment being. So soft, like that girl's hair.
No, fxck that girl. That girl is nothing but a backstabbing liar. She screamed and cried out and scared the cat away. Then, she went back inside to cry in her own bed. She hated to cry, even though it had only been a month.

It was a little over a week now, and she cried once. She was too angry to cry anymore than that. She spent every moment of every day trying to understand what went so wrong. She knew this time it was permanent. She couldnt go back. But would she, would she go back to that girl? No. She was too angry and full of hate to go back. There was too much baggage and too much left to say. Nothing could fix this, not this time. So she sat at home, alone for the most part other than the voices in her skull telling her nothing would never be the same. She didnt more than once. She hated crying in front of people. She hated crying alone even more.

It was a little over a year now, and the wound was still as fresh as before. She sat at her computer, mesmerized by what she was typing. She visualized what that girl would do if she read it. She didnt care anymore. It didnt matter. She typed...

"It's been a little over a year now..."