Day 6

The hardest part about this sixty days is the idea of not having that best friend to talk to. My ex was my go-to guy: if something was wrong, if I was confused or feeling forlorn, he was there for me, giving comfort or suggestions whenever I needed. I'm not claiming that my friends and family cannot fill this role, I'm just saying that it's nice to have that one reliable person as well. You don't have to give back story to them because they already know it, and they know you and your secrets well enough that they can offer advice but never tell another soul.

Puxatony Phil saw his shadow yesterday, and though it may be sunny and 75 in LA, inside my head I am still feeling that impending six more weeks of winter. Yeah it's cold, but not because of the temperature or even the current healing process; it's because of all the surrounding things that I'm left with inside, not wanting to burden anyone with them, not wanting to bruise my ego by showing the rest of the world that I have feelings. Losing that shoulder to cry on has by far been the most devastating blow. Perhaps it wasn't the right shoulder for me, but it still felt better to have one when your world seems to be collapsing around you than not at all.

Through this, I'm starting to feel faced with one of the biggest challenges I have ever combated: if things go further downhill, do I reach out and break my contract with myself (and perhaps lose what's left of his respect in the process), or do I find other ways to deal? The romantics of it all aren't even a factor at this point- I actually woke up exuberant this morning after having a dream where I walked away from his offer, feeling like I had made a major breakthrough. So it's not really about that... it's just needing that particular friend at this particular point in time. I am stumped...