Expectation.

I was advised by Chris to go back to writing so that I can learn to express myself once again. After all, we have broken up and I must admit, I am not taking this breakup too well.

So, in light of the currently most horrendous breakup I have ever experienced (yes, it is worse than my previous breakup), I am back..once again.

Hello there, internet. I hope you will not be too harsh in your judgments and maybe, just maybe, help me heal from this metaphorical massive-blood-gushing wound that is in my heart.

So, I have taken steps to deal with this breakup. Not too drastic ones like packing up my bags and leaving town to begin life once again. Not too dramatic ones like TP-ing his house or spraying his bike red with "I HATE U". But small, pretty generic steps. Like cutting hair. I cut my hair pretty short - so short that trying to contain the hair by styling it is pretty much impossible. (I actually bought hair product with hopes that I can turn it into something that is not a bomb of frizz but alas, such is my life.) I am wearing much more black in my life to radiate my sadness so that I won't feel so much grief and sorrow before I sleep every night (not working so far but black is good when you just don't have the mood to deal with colour coodination). I am eating a lot but not making much movement (explains the chicken wings that I am constantly flapping about nowadays). Just the usual I-just-broke-up shit that almost everyone goes through.

I've had good days and bad days. Sometimes, consecutively. Good, bad, good, bad. Today is a better day. I woke up today, after crying to sleep last night about the potentially fatal wound that has been residing in my heart, feeling pretty okay. Like, a I-can-deal-with-rejection-everyday kind of okay. I had pizza for lunch and watched a little of Deadpool, even though I have three assignments due next week and..you know where I'm going with this. I even started reading again! Progress!

I guess I've been telling everyone that I'm okay and that, I've been good at looking like I'm okay that I would like to clarify this: I'm not okay. I'm a ginormous ball of tears, still mending the pieces of my broken soul. This relationship of three and a half years would go down as the defining three years of my life. And honestly, I can't wait for that day when I'm truly okay and I can appreciate the lessons from this breakup.

Until then, it's just me and you, buddy.