Tried opening up about my breakdown. Expressed some of the things. Did not express all of the things.
Sort of like when there’s a cute guy you’ve had a crush on from afar, and you’ve been dreaming about him, and drawing hearts around his yearbook photo, and writing your first name with his last name all over your binder and now you’ve obsessed for so long that you’ve finally worked up the courage (it’s getting to be too obsessive otherwise) to ask him to the dance and you walk up to him when he’s surrounded by all his cool friends and all you manage to do is trip over a phantom thing and, when they all look over at you with judge-y eyes, blurt out, “Uh, hi, dance.”
That was me. Except I am supposed to be a goddamn adult. And the guy is already my boyfriend. And yet… I’m still the same idiot all these years later.
Day 78 – Idiot Expresses Herself
A Year to Grieve 