I spoke for ages with Christy last night. Laughed, cried, vented and raged. Felt so good. When I hung up, i promised I would eat dinner, but instead I had mango sorbet and danced around my apartment to the likes of Fiona Apple and Jimmy Eat World. One was angry, the other optimistic.
I am officially sick of talking about the breakup. I feel like such a broken record. I guess I won't ever get a satisfactory explanation. What a tard. I am going to get over this. I am. But it is really fucking hard.
