Writing 101, #4: Serially Lost (part one)

He’s gone, and that’s as it should be, since he should never have been here in the first place. He was never mine and he was never going to be. He wanted to be mine, I wanted him to be mine, but it wasn’t meant to be as others were involved.

This hurt me for a very long time. I was lost, desperate, deeply depressed with an aching that never seemed to stop.

I lost weight. I gained weight. I consumed more alcohol than I thought humanly possible, for me anyway. I stopped seeing friends, I seldom visited with family. I was alone and I hated being alone. But, I wanted to be alone.

I hated my job. Hated getting up, showering, and driving to work, hated everybody including him.

Night time TV became my best friend as I could no longer sleep. I was lucky to nap 2 to 3 hours in 24. I became a regular on shopmsn. I watched movies made before I was born, before color was invented, before there was sound. I ate ice cream in bed.

I took long drives to the ocean, the mountains, new cities, malls, stores and all the while I’d have to pull off the road just to cry my heart out. I ate in my car.

I checked my email many times through the day, just in case he changed his mind, or I changed mine, only to see you have no new emails over and over.

I picked up the phone, but never dialed the number.

I’m an idiot, a horrible person, and I believed I lost my mind.

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