I am really happy.

Right Choices Wrong People

You have permission to take an eraser to the past two years. You sucked the blood from that stone. You don’t have to be haunted anymore.

So yes, choose to fall madly in love. The next time, go in with your eyes open. Do it with the right person.

You will go visit a rock star while he’s on the road in North Carolina. Yes, you’re young (ish), so having romantic adventures is the right thing to do. He’s not the right person to do it with. He has problems you've known too well. The similarities frighten you.

Wait four months. 

Something good is coming your way.

Losing him taught me people die two deaths.

Once, when they're heart stops beating and again when you stop speaking their name.

I keep dreaming of babies and apparently that means new beginnings. 

I still have the kind of anxiety about him as I do panic about my curling iron. I will be at a meeting and then I’ll have a sudden flash of my house burning down. Did I turn it off? I left it on, didn’t I? No, it’s off, I remember turning it off. About him, it will be the middle of the night and I’ll wake up with, what if I had done that one thing different? Did I really have the say that? 

For the record, I have never returned home to my things in flames. And no, I didn’t really have to say that.

Danny

I take naps in the afternoon. I quit drinking, unsuccessfully. I write. I quit drinking, successfully. I look at Tumblr. I think about new things to write. I think about how I should be writing more. I don't sleep at night. I take sleeping pills and I feel hung over the next morning. I stop taking sleeping pills. I have a lot of meetings.

I go over things in my head. I wonder where I went wrong. I worry about you. I write you an email that's too long and I say I know you'll never read it. I am still disappointed when you don't write me back. That makes me worry about me.

I have conversations with you in my head all the time. I try to stop, I can't. I go for dinner with friends. I don't talk about you anymore because nothing I say makes you feel farther away. I still cry but not as often. I'm pretty skinny again. I cut my hair. I am steady wondering about you, remember that?

I give your books away to my best friend and she takes them to Scotland. "Please. Take them. I don't want them." She leaves your bookmark on my dining room table. I don't have the heart to throw it out. I make plans for the future. I picture myself in a new life. In that new life, when this is just a memory, I don't think of you that much.

I want to say I am better for loving you, but I'm not yet. I'm just different. 

I know that even if everything else in your life was corrupted, you loved me with more hope than you knew existed inside you.

As someone who loved you the same, I'm sorry it turned out like this.