ihatethisihatethisihatethis

I’ve said a lot in the past six weeks. Well, I wrote a lot. Which means I was thinking a lot. Meaning there were words in my head that I couldn’t say out loud.

I wrote about my past because my present was too painful to speak of. I wanted to find connections to what I used to do/be/love was at all similar to who I still was/loved. If there were any similarities.

It was December. There were two blizzards. Finals were coming up. We weren’t talking. I was beating myself up. I had every reason to be miserable. So I wrote.


Now, I’ve been quiet. I don’t have much more to say.
I’m at a loss for words. I’m still angry. I’m still bitter. How utterly fucking convenient that you found someone else so fast. What impeccable timing.

I’ve cried twice since Thanksgiving.

Once, after the phone call that ripped my heart out. I cried hot tears in my older sister’s shoulder. The other time was a few days ago during my lunch break when I was hungry and tired and locked out of my house.

I fucking hate this.