Do you remember what day it is? It's six years exactly if you and I had made it. And I can't help but think that I'm the only that remembers.

I woke up this morning feeling strange, and it followed me throughout the entire day like a lingering shadow. And I couldn't shake it off. How did peter pan do it?

I need to be rid of your haunting presence.

And I woke up and I remembered that I slept with someone else last thursday and felt like shit because I thought about you and I couldn't do it anymore. So the night ended early and I was just glad that I was in my own bed. But, I hated that I was laying next to someone that wasn't you.

And I can't bring myself to cry. Not even one tear.

My eyes sting with the threat of a fucking downpour. But, I'm just so emotional unavailable the moment.

It was the guy that I cheated on you with. It was that guy. And it didn't make me feel better. And I thought maybe I could still like him, but all I could think about was you.

And I know he wasn't the reason why we broke up. But, while I was with him it sure fucking felt like it. And I felt guilty as shit even though we've been broken up for 3 months now.

3 months vs 6 years. And the 3 months is in the lead. In the win. Going for the gold. Is the michael phelps of my pain. And has all of my attention.

And I hate that I still think about you. I can feel the void of my feelings. Even now as I write this, this is truly how I feel. But, I can't even squeeze out a tear for whatever reason that my body chooses to rebel against me.

And I thought about getting fucking wasted. I thought about it. I've been doing a lot of drinking lately. Good thing, it's been in the disguise of just going out a lot and not as a lush by myself in my room.

But, not tonight.

The last time I got drunk I was rolling around in my sheets with someone else. And that didn't make me feel better. It just made me feel worse.

I'm not saying that I'm hoe-ing it up. It was one guy after 3 months. Just a one night-stand.

And I'm mad that it's almost 1o'clock and I can't sleep. I just want to keep living, and to be honest I'm doing a freaking fabulous job. You wouldn't even be able to tell what was up if you met me down the street. You wouldn't be able to tell that the past six of years of my life fell down the shitter.

And yes, I saw him. I saw when I went to visit my old high school hometown. I saw him. I was with him. And I thought we were getting back together. Long story short. He raised my hopes and still left. And my heart is breaking into a thousand pieces that makes me want to rip out my stomach just so I wouldn't have to feel nauseous all the time.

And now I'm 500 miles away again with nothing but an online diary to cheer me up. And I don't know where my promise ring is. I think I lost it. And I took down all the pictures. And I got rid of all the bears. And the stupid plane and train tickets stubs. And the little notes.

But, I feel like it's impossible to get rid of it all. If I were to get rid of everything that he bought me, that we got together, that shared a memory of what we were, I would be stuck with plaster and fiber glass.

And that simply won't do, because I need a room and a home.

I just rid of the obviouses. I got rid of the "HEY, I HAVE A BOYFRIEND" momentos, so that if I do end up having more one night stands no one is going to think I have bad morals.

Joke.

I can't do it.

I know people who ended up hoe-ing it up after things like this. And I thought it made them feel better. So naturally, I thought it would work for me.

I hate it.

P.S. The guy. The other one. The one I cheated on my fairytale with? Honestly, I thought I did like him a long time ago. It was because X stopped talking to me, and this new boy talked to me every night for 2 hours for 2 weeks. And I felt wanted. And in hindsight, after this past week of repeating the same mistake minus the cheating, it felt lifeless.

I just needed you to know the background, so you aren't confused about how I would so uncharacteristically cheat on X. Because there's so much shit that an online diary can't keep up with that I try to make sense of my life in a couple of paragraphs. It's not enough for you to understand me. Or judge me. And that's okay because all you know of me is digital font.

And I'm okay with it.

And I am better. Just trying not to think about the past. And I just need to remind myself that I'm stronger than this. That the world is fabulous and wonderful and great. And I have so much to be grateful for. And I do. I love my life.

I just wish X were in it.

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