Sometimes I wish I could go back to October. I could sing “If It Means A Lot to You” with my favorite person. In my favorite car. On the way back from my favorite fast food restaurant.
But then I’d have to go through November again.
And I can’t even stomach the thought of my 20th birthday.
The best day.
7 days before the fallout.
6 days after Thanksgiving Break started.
Then I’d have to go back through December.
No food in my body.
No heart in my chest.
And after that, I’d go through January.
When I thought my life was over.
When I thought I couldn’t do it.
When I couldn’t even go to work.
When I thought I was done.
February would roll around pretty quickly.
I’d jokingly ask a guy to be my Valentine.
I’d get a message on the 14th saying “hey”, and not knowing how much it’d hurt.
I’d try to put a few pieces of the bridge back together, so work wouldn’t be so bad.
But March was tough too.
Two weeks in and I was done.
I couldn’t do it.
I gave up.
Number 12 walked into my life.
Both the end and the beginning.
April. Things looked up.
I was happy.
My best friend.
Don’t even get me started.
I was so happy.
But I still couldn’t live.
Everything still hurt.
More knowing why exactly God did this.
Here I am.
Wondering why a year ago I chose him.
The one that started it all.
The one that changed it all.
Wondering why I can’t catch a break.
Reminding myself that God has a purpose.
Reminding myself that my best friend is only MY BEST FRIEND.
So don’t stress.
Wondering why for the first time since 2008,
I’ve picked up my lip biting habit.
Then knowing exactly why.
My best friend.
Here’s hoping that the next 7 months will be reasonable.