This has been me since six this morning, just drowning in a pool of misery that is completely of my own making. Noah left at seven thirty. I’ve basically just been weeping in his bed since then.

We don’t know when we’ll see each other next. At all. It could be this summer or it could be next year. The next time we see each other we don’t know what our feelings will be like. He might not love me anymore, and I might not love him. I’m a cynic, and a skeptic, I don’t believe in true love, and I never have. It just doesn’t exist in my world. But I do think that sometimes people only find one person they’re capable of loving, and I’m scared Noah may have been it for me. But that doesn’t mean I’m it for him. I’m sure we’ll both move on eventually I’m sure. I’m just being selfish in that I kind of hope I find a way to let go first. I’ve never truly been broken up with. I’ve never left someone I still loved romantically. This is a first, and I really don’t know how to cope.