Last night, I think he went out, and ended up in bed with someone else. Maybe he'll feel what I felt. Maybe he'll roll over after it's all said and done and wish that it was me instead. Maybe he won't.
But I'm not listening to my heart with these ideas in my head. My heart tells me I'm sad, all the time. I don't go to class. I find it excruciating to get out of bed, to leave my house, for anything! I find it hard not to drink and not to go out, and even hard not to want someone else, anyone, in my bed with me. At least I've done right on one account.
I still feel as though I'm making progress though. I am catching up on all my school work, throwing myself into my work makes it enjoyable. I cook. I take pleasure in reading the paper, in blogging with my best friend.
* * *
I've never really cried over him. Never. Those feelings have been buried deep down. I don't know how to let them out.
