Maybe because then I believed in something and when I had opened the door the thoughts of him kissing me flashed through my mind.
I shouldn’t have nodded at that time when we were both smoking and then stabbing out my cigarette on the wallpaper with trembling hands I had taken your head and slammed your lips against my own. You had kissed me back.
Don’t deny it, you bloody kissed me back.
I look at the pink in front of my eyes. Did I dye it because Kate wouldn’t dye it pink? Or because I wouldn’t dye it pink? I see myself crying again.