I haven't been writing at all again. I know. And it's not for lack of trying. I sit down to write a few times a week and I can't find the right thoughts or the right way to see them. I am afraid that if I start writing everything that I feel will pour out and I'll be vulnerable. We've discussed how much I do not like vulnerable.
I'm hurting right now and I don't know why. I think it is all the change, the part of me clinging to the life I had. When I was with Eric (I don't even care if I use his real name anymore) I was happy. I had dream single mom life: a good job, a boyfriend that loved booth of us, a house, a home. I don't have that now and I think I am still mourning for it.
Eric was my best friend and it's like he died. He doesn't want to speak to me even after he promised that even if we broke up we'd be friends. We are not friends. I feel broken from it still. Like a part of me is missing. I want to know how he is, how the dog is, the funny things that happened at work. I want to know. I don't get to know.
Like I said, it feels like he is dead. Except that his number is still in my phone and I know it will be him to pick up, if he wanted to. I want my life back, but I don't get that so I keep going forward and freaking out about how much it sucks without my best friend to have my back.
I might make a bad decision tonight and I'm ok with that.