(no subject)
I had a really good cry. Reading my old journals, the Jordon parts. Missing him, missing Ryan, hating being lonely, hating wanting attention. One night in Myrtle Beach, the girls went to the dance. I stayed back and cried. I was worried. That we wouldn't be friends anymore, I would never know why, I would get my heartbroken. And we aren't. And I don't. And I did. Yet I never told anyone about that night. I look at the pictures, read about how Jessi trusted him, too. How fucking much I loved him. Adored him. Wanted him to have every part of me, just as I wanted every part of him. Tonight, I submitted myself to an hour or two of being okay with the heartbroken, being okay with missing him, being okay with wanting him back. I let myself be a girl, and, for once, I just sat in my room and cried for a good two hours while I listened to sad songs on the radio. I'll always care about him, in one way or another. But I think I'm becoming ready to just... forget. Never forget, but pretend. I only hope it proves easier than it has already been for me. &hearts. Lizi.