I’m completely destroyed. A mess. In pieces. Shattered like a champagne glass thrown on a hot sidewalk. I’ve been with my boyfriend for almost two years. I was done searching. I’m so in love with him but we have both been unhappy for a bit. Now he wants space. So I’m giving it to him. Over 2,000 miles of space. I’m going to Alaska for a few weeks. I need to get the hell out of Vegas.
I’ve been going out a lot. Drinking like a fish. Drowning in expensive vodka with brand new beautiful people every night. It’s only been days since he hurt me so the wound is fresh.
I’m crying. Gasping. Very loud, open-mouthed screaming kind of stuff all day. It sounds like the “noooo!” you would yell if you were to watch a loved one get run over by a truck. Between the bad cries I have mini-episodes of dripping tears like my eyeballs are sweating. My cheeks are pink and raw. I can’t stand it.
I’m emotional right now but I know it was the right thing for us. I need to travel and be young. I need to experience life. Why does doing the right thing always suck so much?