Don't get me wrong; this isn't any picnic. And there is definitely something keeping me from eating. Since Friday night I have consumed exactly 4/5 a box of Mike 'N Ikes, half a banana and 1 handful of Skittles (why fruit and their candy equivalents are the only thing my stomach will even consider is far beyond me). I just have no appetite. I've been sipping on water to keep myself from keeling over, but other than that the very thought of food makes me nauseous.
Scott came over today. I'm not sure if that's breaking a breakup rule or not but it somehow settled everything in my brain. I made him tell me that it was over and that he was certain about it at least three times. I cried. A lot. Told him some things, shared some feelings, so on and so forth. And when he left, I felt alright. I didn't throw my back against the door, crumple onto the floor and weep tears of pain and anguish; though if I had done that, it wouldn't have been at all out of my current character. I got back to my homework. I went about my business. And I felt okay.
One of the things I'm finding the hardest is removing him from my physical surroundings. On Friday night, immediately after he left, I went around my apartment taking pictures down from the fridge and his books off of the bedside table. I did this numbly, unfeelingly, since I knew that if I thought about it for a moment I would be devastated, and that if I left it for the next day I might never bring myself to do the deed. I came across one last thing tonight and slipped it into the trash can, willing myself not to think about what it meant to me.
I'm going to talk about this ordeal and about Scott a lot in the next few days (weeks?). What I want you to know, and what I'm going to try hard to concentrate on, is that the past twenty months have been twenty great ones. Falling in love with and getting to know the guy was some of the most fun I've ever had. I look forward to everything in the future and regret nothing in the past.
We're going to be ok.
This is day two.
Day two is cloudy, with a chance of emotional trauma.