And that’s how she knew. Abandoned in that little old library.
She looked down at the words scribbled on the book she was holding, thinking that if he actually liked her, he wouldn’t have left. It was all a fantasy, a fantasy she created herself. And she wasn’t mad, she was sad; having constructed all this idea of a perfect person that didn’t exist. She was sad, for how perfect it all had seemed, and how untruthful it was. She looked back at him, already walking away, and she smiled to herself, thinking…“Well, finally everything is going back to normal”.
The Virgins Diary 