why not

Something about him had stuck with her, and it would creep up on her when she heard a song that sounded like one he wrote or ran down his side of the street.

It hadn't even been anything, but it still hurt.

That time, he had been the one to say no.
Well, he didn't actually say it out loud.
But she knew.

Somehow his rejection had hurt more than the others. It was that curious kind of hurt, like when you peel back the bandaid just to see if the graze is healing, except that by doing so, you only make it worse.

Because the hardest part about the whole situation was not knowing why.

Or why not, rather.


we never really do find out why, do we?

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