The wonderful people around me, whom I love, have felt the need to ask me if I am alright and have made themselves open to hearing me talk about how I am doing.

I have, as of yet, not taken anyone up on that offer. I’ve not spoken to my parents about it, nor my friends, nor my sister. When asked about the details, I am reluctant to share any. This is because I do not wish to speak of it.

We broke up, and it has been a week and a half now. How am I feeling? I am feeling angry, vengeful, and loathsome. This is not directed at her, or God, but at myself. I hate who I am right now, I hate what I have become, I hate what I believe,  and I hate what I have done. We strung ourselves along, and though I cannot speak for her, I feel as if I have made a grand announcement to a meager flash of fleeting circumstance. We chose each other over God. I chose her over God, and I hate myself for it. For now I do not know what I care for anymore. I am a facade of calm happiness, a statue of reserved joy, but behind my eyes is rage and arrogant self-loathing.

I feel lost, and I now fear for my being able to find my way back. Do not have me speak of it, for I am adrift in an infuriating place.

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