Oh my word.

I barely thought of her all night.

There was one instance. I think I muttered something about so much being able change in two years, before loudly declaring that I didn't care anymore, time to move on.

I'm not sure if I was trying to convince myself at that point, or if it was more the benefit of Male Party Friend. A desperate act.

I'm scared I'm going to get over her quicker than I want to. Desperation and heartbreak are my bread and butter, they get me through each day. If I do ok one day, it's a reason to congratulate myself.

I can't depend on her to make me feel real anymore, so now I need to depend on the mess she's left behind in order to feel anything at all. Otherwise I'll end up feeling numb and void, which scares me. I don't like it when I'm there.

Don't like feeling this way. I'm opening a tin of Cadbury's Heroes. I will not think of her.