Monday I was asked to move out of my apartment. My engaement is off, the relationship is over. I'd been building this relationship for over four years.
When we met, I was 20, she was 17. She grew up. It would seem I did not. I've basically been drunk since I found out she wanted me out, which was last night.
I've truthfully never imagined such pain, and I've been up the psychological river twice for suicidal tendencies. To put it in IWC terms, Eric Szulczewski has it together in ways I've only dreamed of. Fortunately, I don't actually want to die, which is a welcome surprise.
This thread doesn't especially have a point, I just needed to get that out, and my life is ordinarily not exciting enough to have a blog.
Dude, I feel your pain. In fact I'm feeling it right now as I just got done having essential parts of my cardiac area ripped out and eaten by someone this weekend. Give yourself a few days to stay drunk and miserable, and then start picking up the pieces. I know I'm off to the liquor store myself today too.