il n'est pas finis et tu me manque toujours

backdated two days ago

I started crying again. Wait. Did I ever stop?
It's become a nightly ritual when I am alone. A few days ago I just curled myself up on the kitchen floor and let the tears consume me. I thought, "What if my roommate came home now? What if she had someone with her? Am I insane?" I don't know. I hate thinking about how uncomfortable she would have been. But she just as likely would have come to my side and comforted me.
I miss Pants. I do. I deleted his number from my phone, and made him less visible to my online eye.
This doesn't end.