Thursday, November 3, 2016

The Wrong Kind of Milestone

Exactly a week since it happened.  She had told him he could take a week if he needed to, which meant that after tonight, it really was going to feel like he was not going to contact her again.

She tried to shop for food, but didn't have any appetite. She knew there was nothing at home, but ended up just spending $30 on booze rather than spend money on dinner.

It was a Friday night.  Her last for awhile since her play was starting next week.  Maybe she should have reached out to Dawn or someone for support...but she didn't.  She was lonely, but maybe needed more alone time.

It was the 8th day of her period.  She wondered if her depression was just period emotions.  It had been painful for the full 8 days, but suddenly it turned into a Quentin Tarantino movie.  Her brand new jeans were drenched in blood by the time she got home.  An "8 hour" pad lasted her 2 hours...twice.

"If I die, go on Oprah and tell the world I loved puppies." she joked to KSL.  He laughed.

She wished that something would happen.  She wasn't depressed, didn't really want to die...but if it happened, it happened.  She wasn't afraid of it.

What a terrible place to be.  Depressed but realistic.  Heartbroken but realistic.

Sometimes she wish she could be fully romantic.  Fully depressed.  Fully heartbroken.  Lose herself in the emotion, let go.

Cry.

Let herself feel everything.

She couldn't do it.  The strong people didn't get weak moments.

She hadn't spoken to Dawn since Sunday.  She had spilled about her weekend and said "We'll get together soon though.  I just don't know when that'll be."

Dawn never asked about how it went...maybe she never really cared.  Dawn had her own issues to deal with...she didn't have the space to care about hers too.

No one did.

She really needed to get used to being alone.  It was the only way she was going to survive.

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