"There was this poem that spoke about life: that it would kick you in the stomach, wait for you to get back up, and punch you again. Last night was definitely a punch in my stomach. It looks like he found someone else...and part of me thinks he did it even before we ended. Things are a total mess. I'm a total mess. My house looks like a tornado passed through, my hair looks like a gang of bees is nesting in it, my eyes are tired and sad beyond my years. But he looks happy...like he's not affected, like I meant nothing.
I should pick up and leave my life and start somewhere new. I'll meet a nice guy or get a wonderful pet; do honest work and go home to a warm bed and comforting cup of tea. I don't want more than that, but I don't want less. "
