It was the opposite. I loved him all too much. I was only breaking up with him because he was such a nice guy, and while helping out his buddies, I wa... left with the scraps of time and energy he could give me. And why could I hate him for being a good guy? Who was left to hate? Our friends? I entertained a vivid and comical fantasy of hacking all our friends to pieces, while shrieking maniacally that now Shawn could be only mine. But who could blame them? They were great people too, much. I listen carefully as the desk clerk says she will send someone to bring your bags to your room. I stop the bellhop and take your bags from him, carrying them so that my face is hidden. I walk down the halls to your room and tap on the door with my foot. You open it and I say in a Southern drawl so as to disguise my voice from you, "Your bags, ma'am?" Oh, right. Come on in," you say. Noticing my cargo-pants, pony tail and t-shirt as opposed to any semblance of a uniform, you ask me who I am and. More

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