It's Gone, So Long, We've Got Time, All The Time

It's time to start over. Am I finished with Andrew? No. I'll probably never be, but I think I'm happier this way. I guess I'll never be over to get over him, and I'll never be able to say what he meant to me. Mostly because I'm not sure what he meant to me. But I guess that's how loss works: You can onl truly be happy when you can appreciate something for what it was, instead of hating it for what it wasn't. I made a mistake. But I hope that next time, when something like this happens again, I'll stay. Maybe it won't be what I want, but at least no matter what happens, I'll know I had something. More than anything, I wish I could tell him I'm sorry. He was a great person, he really was. I want to say I'm sorry that I ran away from him, and that I'm sorry that one day, I won't be able to remember him. And on the slight, microscopic and completely hopeless chance that he reads this, I hope he forgives me.

The point is, I'm done feeling sorry for myself. I can't keep holding onto something like this. I can't say that it'll be like before. I'm going to keep blogging, and baking, and going out and doing stupid things. But now I'll just know a little better.

And just to show you that I haven't turned into a complete emotional mess, and that I still have some fight in me, here's a little something.



I'm back, bitch!