You Can Hear Rumors. But You Can't

My Breathing Begins To Slow. The Tension In My Muscles Starts To Relax. Then, A Click In The Headphones. A Slow Breath Of Air. I Open My Eyes To Bright Moonlight. And Hannah, With Warmth. Thank You.

As A Writer, My Only Responsibility Is To Tell A Compelling Story.

And As I Stood There In The Hallway―alone―trying To Understand What Had Just Happened And Why, I Realized The Truth: I Wasn't Worth An Explanation―not Even A Reaction. Not In Your Eyes.

Everything About It Was False. Right Then, In That Office, With The Realization That No One Knew The Truth About My Life, My Thoughts About The World Were Shaken.

Rejection Always Hurts, But Having It Come From My Best Friend Was The Worst.