I wish I could stop getting so damn emotional whenever I drink though. I broke down for what felt like the millionth time in the past three weeks and unfortunately this time I wasn't hiding in a car. I hate allowing people to see me when I'm vulnerable, but once it happens I can't stop. It just escalates until I'm a crying heap and helpless.
For whatever reason I'm the first to try and get someone else to talk about their feelings, but as soon as it comes to my own I feel almost like I'm betraying someone else by making them listen to any level of sadness. I know I shouldn't bottle things up inside. I know it doesn't make things easier. I also know it takes a certain level of broken heartedness that should be released to simply cry until you can't breathe in the driver seat of your car. Or in the shower. Or just sitting beside the little nook of trees in the patch of grass between Wilcox and Rutherford.
For those of you who saw me crying and didn't get scared, thank you so so so so so much. I love you. I truly do. It was so out of character for me and I hope I can snap out of it soon. The truth is I miss him more than I thought I would. More than anyone thought I would I'm sure. And I'm also terrified of everything at the moment. It seemed nice being able to go through things with him around to give me a hug at the end of the day, but I don't have that anymore and it's taking a lot to get used to that. It makes me feel selfish for expecting those things too, which feels worse inevitably.
I need someone to cut me off midfunk. Seriously.
No more funks. Just happy days.
Sunday, Monday ones. Tuesday, Wednesday ones. Thursday, Friday ones. Saturday what a days.
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