Oh god, the morning after.

I just want to die.

I put all of his things in a christmas bag, because it's the only thing large enough, and still, it's not large enough. Every thing that I put in the bag is just a stabbing reminder that someone who wrote "with all my love," on the inside of something doesn't mean it anymore. Maybe time heals all wounds, but if what I were feeling were a corporeal wound, I'd be dead right now.

It's just hard to comprehend, because he is such a large part of my lfe. Haa. I suppose I mean was. I know him. Now he'll take every route to avoid every coming into contact with me. I'll never see him again. I'll probably get my stuff back via Glen or someoone.

This can't be happenening. This can't be real. I just want to wake up from this horrible dream to him in my bed and snoring like this morning was supposed to happen.