Whatshisfuckingface left nearly seven weeks ago. The first three weeks were awful. There was a lot of crying and avoiding of friends. He was all I could think about at work (I'll do anything to avoid being productive). Your normal break-up kind of stuff.
Week four saw some improvement. The tears came less frequently. I didn't obsess over where he was at this specific time or what he might be doing. By weeks five and six, things improved dramatically. I think Booty Call Matt had something to do with that. He got me over the hump, so to speak.
All that mattered was that I felt like I was pretty much over him. I didn't really care. I could laugh about it. I wasn't thinking about him very often, and when I did I wasn't sad. Well, I guess I was a little sad that I was starting not to care.
But this week I feel like I've taken a step backward. The longer the week's gone on, the bigger that step has felt. I guess I shouldn't have thought that the pain would just stop. Though, I thought there would be some sort of catalyst that would send me back down the ladder. Nothing specific has happened. He hasn't called or e-mailed (this is probably another story ... I'm glad about it and annoyed at the same time), which is what I figured would make me feel the way I'm feeling now.
My luck, it's PMS-related and I'm getting my period early as Ma Nature's revenge for me gloating about my (hopefully) stress-induced, one-day period last month. Whatever the reason, at least I know it's possible to feel better. There was a point where I thought I'd never stop hurting. Silly to think that, I know, but when you're down there wallowing in that hurt it's hard to see out of the pit. It's so great to know Malina will be here tomorrow. I'm sure hanging out and drinking with her will be just what the doctor ordered.