I don’t know what to do.
I don’t know if I can wait for you for this long.
I say this because, believe me, I want to, but I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I’ll be able to because it could very well drive me insane. I’m drowning here.
As these days are passing and you’re gone longer I’m feeling myself slip back into that place I was in before I met you. I’m in withdrawal. And I’m trying to figure out how I’ll be able the handle the three months that are left before you come home.
By the way, today was our three month anniversary. But it’s okay, I don’t really care for those anyway. The only important ones are the first six months and each year after that.
I hate that I haven’t talked to you in three days because you’re off being stupid in Venice with your brother, David. I hate that I can’t run for a few more weeks because of these goddamn shin splints I managed to get by overexerting myself. When I came back from my run, though, and Tyler told me her and David were back together, and when I finally told her the truth, I just couldn’t help but go run that damn three miles. And it killed me with every step. And that’s when I realized I didn’t care whether Tyler was mad at me for finally telling her what we’ve all been thinking. That wasn’t why I was so angry. I could give less than a shit about what Tyler thinks, mainly because she doesn’t really think all that much.
I realized that I was angry because you were gone. I was upset because I missed you. And I had the first panic attack I’ve had in months right then and there. Directly attached to the gym at the hotel, there was a deck. A crappy concrete one where you can get some air after working out but no one really occupied it. And I stood out there at nine at night and wailed and cried at Cambridge. And nothing happened. Cambridge didn’t wail and cry back to me as I wished it would.
I just don’t know what to do. I want to wait for you. And I’m going to.
Let’s see if I’ll survive it.