I feel completely and utterly stuck. It’s been six months and I’m not over him… as much as I’d like to think I am. He’s left me a brokenhearted mess. I read a letter he wrote to me, saying that he’d be in my life for as long as I would have him. Well I didn’t ask him to go did I? Who’s going to clean up this mess of me you’ve made? I sat through Shawshank Redemption with the family, a waste of a fucking classic movie only because the first time I saw it was with him. It’s funny how my brain forgets all of the things I want to remember and retains all of the things I want to forget. I still remember that night perfectly. We were huddled up on the couch in the living room, I was lying in his arms while he played with my hair. It was the most content I’ve ever felt in my adult life. And now what? Six months later I’m still sitting on a couch only it’s in my parent’s living room and I’m crying to my laptop at 1:55 am. Fuck being emo.