She hates me. That's all I could think of sitting on the bench on the local park. She hates me and I don't know why. Perhaps I just got dull? Or did I say something so undeniably offensive she couldn't stand looking or speaking to me again despite my constant efforts. I sat for hours wallowing in my anguish and I didn't notice when the sun went down and up again and I stared ahead my minds space taken up by constant thoughts of her. And yet it had nothing in it at all.
I stood up not quite knowing what I was doing or where I was going but I blindly followed my feet along the...