Maybe it's weird to think about the two month anniversary of your most difficult brake up. It doesn't really matter to me, though. Weird or not, I was bound to be sulking about it still.
November 23rd, 2020. It feels like ages ago, but it was only two months.
All it took was one weekend to completely fuck me over.
I tend to think a lot about what would have happened if I hadn't gone to that party at all. Would I still be with him? Or would I have fucked up along the way?
Would Abby and I have ever gotten together? Would I be sick right now, because he'd have gotten me sick? Would I have started smoking, peer pressured and drawn to any distraction from the stress of my monogamous and boring every day life? Would I even still be on this app at all?
I don't know. I wish I did. I wish I was living a life of anything other than what I'm living right now. Dramatic, I know. Sorry.
Instead, I'm laying alone in my bed on a Monday morning, trying my best to keep myself together as I fight off loneliness and regret. I'm only 17, but I feel as tired as a 72 year old woman. Schoolwork is piling up and I've done nothing but watch YouTube to distract myself from those memories. It still hurts. I still hurt.
I fucking suck.
Edit: I made this 3 weeks ago, I'm feeling better lol
YOU ARE READING
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عشوائيThis is really just me ranting on the internet in a space where people are less likely to bully me for my opinions. Read at your own risk, because I do get kind of personal and kind of political sometimes. Includes: -shitty life drama -me complainin...