It was a good day

On February 14, 2012, I received the worst valentines gift.

The letter's still in my room.

It had been a bad day, where I'd returned every single visible memory of him.
Next that happened, I was sitting in this cold, chilly room alone.

Alone, and waiting for my name to be called.
Time ticked and it felt like forever when it'd only been 30 minutes.
How I wished someone was there telling me everything was all right.

I walked in and she seemed friendly.
She didn't say much. She didn't need to.
She just simply wrote a few words onto the paper, the letter,
Guiding me to go to the next location suggested.
Whatever that happened next wasn't her business anyway.

I didn't go in the end.
Didn't have the courage to.
I simply brushed off whatever the letter had to say and tried hanging on myself.

Of course I didn't go.
I couldn't.
Because going there would mean I'd be the first to admit it.