In the Aftermath (warning: extreme melodramatica)

I'm home.

I've come home before, so I know what it entails. The joys, the disappointments, the loneliness. I know that after some time the novelty of home wears off and real life sets in. And I know that when it hits I'm not going to be ready to be here without you.

It was a hard decision. I know it was the right one.

I'm trying to get settled. I want a job, a dog, a time commitment. I want anything that forces me to move forward when I don't want to.

I'm sorry I couldn't keep from crying on the phone tonight. I tried to hide it and I know you heard and I know you humored my poor attempts to sound OK. Thank you.

I'm so sick of people saying, "its for the best." How the fuck do they know? I wish someone would slap me and ask why the hell I threw away the best thing I had going for me.

I'm glad you've been spending time with your family and getting out of that tiny apartment. You surprised me when you talked about all the things you have been doing. I wish we hadn't gotten so complacent.

I haven't been able to tell people out loud yet. I can type it. I can text it. But I can't say, "Oh, I'm not going back to New York," and I certainly can't say, "We broke up." Saying out out loud makes it so real. So far I've lied straight to a neighbor, 4 friends, and an uncle. I really need to stop.

This is the first time in 3 years I won't light the menorah with you. Its funny, I feel like something is missing now that I won't be celebrating Jewish holidays any more. I'm so happy we were able to share our differences with each other.

Rebuilding is going to be hard. How do you reshape your life without something that has been so important for so long?

It was so nice to talk tonight. God I miss you. I'm so sorry.