Waking up in the morning is the worst. Besides the heaviness in my limbs and the tightness in my chest- consequences of smoking too many cigarettes - there is pain in my heart, sharp, piercing pain, and I miss him more than ever.

I miss him. I'm angry at him. I'm bargaining with him in my head... and quietly, I'm pleading with him... even though my pleas are unworded and I'm not even sure what it is that I'm pleading for... The finality of it is hard to grasp, the loss of those simple moments of joy is hard to cope with. But then, the realization of how badly I may have deluded myself about him, about what we had, makes me feel like a fool...So I'm angry at him, but more angry at myself. This most pedestrian, banal ending has unhinged something in me - for what I feel is not a simple heartache, longing, or ennui... It's desperation. And I feel more helpless than ever.