day eight.

It’s about three am. There’s a reason I haven’t been around for four days.

I’ve spent most of the time feeling bad for myself, generally self-loathing. Some of this behavior I put back to my non-traditional upbringing. Most of it I put to the fact that the absence of the love of my life has me slowly suffocating.

Considering that I have never been in a relationship of a comparable capacity, with any man, my entire life… prior to now – it’s safe to say nothing like this has been mentioned in my corner of web-land over the past close to nine years.

Dudes, that’s like a decade of my life.

To manage the frantic unsettlement of my present state, I spent a lot of the weekend making phone calls. I called people in three different countries. I can’t tell you how handy it is to have people in various time-zones when you’re experiencing 24-hour breakdowns.

And in between, he called. Because he always calls, every day. He keeps tabs on me like a real man should. Like no one has ever bothered to before.

Because sometimes, I can be terribly impulsive. And a lot of the time, if you don’t look close enough – I disappear.

Never the less. I’ve got this. 22 sleeps until I go to Italy. Fortunately for me, two is my favorite number. Thank God.

So… instead of grieving (like I have been all weekend) at the moment; I’m working on my book and listening to this:

One of the conversations I had this weekend with a bestie involved, “Yeah… but, does he know you’re a G n shit?”

And then we laughed our asses off. Laughter is so important to me right now. Without it, I would never survive the next 22 days.

“If you did your homework, girl… I’m pretty sure you know what I got.”

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