Ugh it makes me crazy thinking this is probably so much easier for him than it is for me. That he probably doesn't care or miss me. That he probably thinks this is the best time of his life and for me it is the the ninth level of hell. If only I heard from him and knew how he was feeling. I want to know so badly, so badly. I want to call him. It feels like a burning, crushing pain eating my intestines. It feels like a panic attack. I sit on my hands.
Will we ever speak again?
I guess I am doing better... I've cried less. I've tried to feel stronger. I've tried to tell myself that this is a time I can use to focus on becoming more independent and doing things I love. I need a life, because he was my life. And now he's gone.
God I'm so pathetic.
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