When I get to the bookstore, I make my way towards the Starbucks in the back. 

Whenever I need a quiet place to work, I usually head towards my local Barnes and Noble. Especially when my favorite coffee shop has been compromised. 

I sit near the window, which makes a perfect corner with the adjacent wall. I like to sit in this area because it gives me a perfect view of the people ordering coffee, (perfect way to find names for characters) and walking by with books in their hands. 

Overall, this is my favorite place to be. Unlike my regular coffee shop, no one here knows me. I feel a sense of calm from the anonymity I have here.

I open my laptop and I start to type another letter. This time, however, I’m angry. I’m no longer upset like I was a week ago. 

I’m angry because of how I allowed him to treat me like an idiot. I’m angry because he tries to act like he’s grown, when in reality he is still acting like a child. But mostly, I’m mad at myself because I can’t believe that I let myself feel so strongly for a guy. A guy that (apparently) never felt the same way. 

Never had I felt so angry at one person. Not even when Amber and I had our falling out. Not even when false rumors about me were spread, and everyone pushed me aside. 

I’m typing furiously at my computer. I fear that everyone at the cafe can see the fumes coming from my head. 

Reasons I don’t want to talk to you:

I think it’s kinda obvious 

You asked someone out 

I want to make it clear that, that’s not the real reason. Whether she had said yes or no, I don’t care. Eventually I would’ve gotten over it. 

My main concern is how you treated me after. You got what you wanted/ needed from me, and then it was like I never existed. I can understand that you were going through something, but that still doesn’t give you the right to treat me the way that you did. 

I should start by saying that I have liked you for some time. Part of me still does. But that’s not the point. 

The point here is that with this situation I finally realize our age difference. And why everyone has told me to let you go. That you are not worth the pain I feel. 

Some part of me doesn’t want to throw away years of friendship, so it’s really up to you whether or not you want to stay friends. 

My letter turned into an angry rant. I think I tried to make a list to organize the thoughts in my head. 

I hadn’t realized just how angry this whole situation made me feel.

I tried my best to keep a neutral expression while writing. I was doing fine, but it was starting to get difficult. This new emotion of anger was new to me, and my body wasn’t taking it well. I didn’t know how to process it rationally, so my mind started to take it out on my body. 

My stomach started hurting. I check the time…

1:05 p.m 

 Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe I’m just hungry. 

I pack my things into my bag, and hurry back towards my car. 

I hope the don't notice that I didn't actually buy anything.