We talked. Time flew by as I spilled all my pent up anger and heart break. I didn't care if he knew, it wasn't like I'd ever see him again.
I know my problems aren't as bad as other people's: I have food, shelter, loving freinds and family; so whenever I get upset about something I keep it to myself. I'm not going to lie, it felt good to let it all out without someone telling me to get over it. He just sat there and listened, nodding, asking the occasional question. It was almost as if he cared (not that he does, why would he?). Eventually I moved my car to an actual parking spot and we moved to one of the outside tables. I told him everything- from not getting the despertly needed scholarship to spilling hot coffee on myself momments before coming to Chick-Fil-A this morning. It had been a tough weekend, and I just wanted to go to sleep.
"You've still got Sunday."
"What?"
"Well," He said with a shrug. "You said you had a pretty screwed up weekend, but there's still Sunday to look forward to."
"The only good thing about Sunday is the afternoon nap," I say, rolling my eyes.
"There's church."
"Yeah, no thanks."