Lately, I've found that loves is easily the best and the worst thing in the world. Though all you really do need is love. Maybe for another person, maybe not. Maybe for yourself, as in to motivate you to keep moving forward. Maybe for what you do or what you don't do.  I know with Pablo, at times I was the happiest girl in the world, and others the most morbidly depressed girl in the world. But things are different now. And I know that I must move on and love myself for a while because I spent most of those 2 1/2 years loving him and nobody else. 

And luckily, I am able to say that today went well.

Very well. :)

ps. I'm [not?] sorry that I slapped you in the face the other day. Twice. You needed it. And it made me feel better.

pps. But I'm happy to say that I no longer, well today at least, grew sad or upset when I still mentioned our past times or saw things that reminded me of you. And it feels good.

Heading towards the Atlantic in the AM. Gone for however long.