It's almost seven months. Seven months! And still I lie here awake and wonder what I could do or say to get him back. What made me actually pull out the pen was that I started thinking about the book that I bought for his birthday and how much trouble I went through to get it. And he knew. And I was thinking that I was okay during the good times - I obviously tried to make him happy. I just didn't know what to do when that didn't work. If anyone in this world that could understand that, it should be him. And I wonder if he's with someone new. A big part of me really hopes that he is so I'll know that I didn't totally fuck him up. Although I don't want to know if he is. It surprises me but I just don't want to know. Is it that I just don't want to let go? Because, seriously, I need a pepto every time I think of it. And that part of me that doesn't want to know, that glimmer of hope that someday out of the blue, he'll call, still says a silent prayer every fucking time the phone rings or I check my email.

Seven months ago I was saying why would I want to be with this guy, he's not the one for me so why should I even bother. And tonight I'm lying here thinking that I wish I could just erase it all from his memory and start with a clean slate. And who knows? Maybe some day, some year it will be him and I will get a chance. Or maybe all this means that better things are right around the corner.