I woke up sometime in the middle of the night to sound of "gun shots," which actually ended up being fire crackers set off by the frat boys a few houses down. Yeah, you read correctly: frat boys and explosives (probably homemade) in March. Again with the counting down to the end of my lease at this God-forsaken apartment... Living here probably wouldn't be so bad if not for the homeless crazies and the proximity to campus, though the college kids never cease to give me a chuckle. And let's not forget the old, uneven brick sidewalks. People say it gives this town character, but I say it's a broken ankle waiting to happen.

And Alex officially hates me. That, too, is something I've been waiting to happen. I should have seen it coming. I think I actually might have, to be honest. Sometimes I could see resentment or regret on his face when we'd fight or, more often the case, after I'd say something he wasn't too keen on. There came a point some time during our six months when I decided that I was no longer okay with the having to censor what I said and did to avoid hurting his feelings. And the never-ending moments of silence between us were the epitome of cruel and unusual punishment. Also, I always had to explain myself to him. At the risk of sounding like I'm sixteen again, I'll say that he didn't get it, didn't get me. Nothing was effortless with him, and while I'm not sixteen and understand that any relationship requires work, with Alex, it was like grabbing at air. What's the point in struggling, in putting forth work and effort, to never benefit from it?

I should have called things off a long time ago. I'm well aware of that now. Hindsight is 20/20, right? God, I sound like Alex. He's full of old adages and cliches. His lack of originality was another thing that plucked my nerves, but that's a whole 'nother story. We had it good for a while. We smoked and laughed and ate too much and listened to whatever indie music he'd found that day and walked around town aimlessly. And, believe it or not, the sex was pretty awesome. It's missing that the most about him that lets me know I did the right thing. Damn him for letting his feelings get involved! 

I hope he's satisfied with the last thing he ever said to me being, "You're sick in the head. I hope you're happy being alone for the rest of your fucking life." Speaking of being sixteen...