Kort engelsk tekst {{forumTopicSubject}}

Hej folkens
Jeg har lige skrevet en kort engelsk tekst, der sandsynligvis bare er prologen til en novelle, men det finder jeg ud af senere.
Jeg vil bare lige høre hvad i synes

Teksten:

“I love you,” I whispered against his lips, desperately trying to catch my breath. “I love you.”

“Why do you have to say that?” He removed his lips, and pushed me away. He had never done that before.

“I thought…” I mumbled embarrassed by his sudden apathy.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore. I don’t love you! I don’t care about you! It was a bet! A stupid bet!” He had never yelled at me, never even raised his voice at me. He had always been there, always been nice, charming and, I realized, all too perfect. I had always known that he was too good to be true, but nonetheless, I had always believed him to be real.

That changed in that very moment.

“I’m out of here! Consider me gone,” he yelled, and ran out of the front door. He didn’t close it. It took some effort, but I got to the door, and closed it.

In the moment it slammed, I slid down against it, and felt the first tears in my eyes. I cried for hours that night, but my parents never woke up. Not even when I was on my way upstairs, but so blinded by tears, that I fell several times.

I didn’t brush my teeth, or change my clothes. I just went to bed, and tried to sleep, without any success.

“I love you,” I mumbled to my self. Some may believe that I’d hate him. Some may think I should. But I can’t hate him. And I’ll probably never me able to. When everything falls apart, and it seems like the world is crashing at your feet, you got to tell yourself, that you’re still here, alive. And then you’ll maybe, just maybe, find some satisfaction in that fact. I didn’t. I found the opposite. After that night, the only thing I wanted, besides him, was never to have to take a breath again.