Two Weeks

Two weeks to make or break a habit.

I cried during dinner. I want to know why I’m not over Adam yet. I want to know why I can’t seem to get past this.

I wish I could tell him I’m sober, I’m working out, I’m figuring things out.

All of this is so fucking hard. All I know is I hope there’s something really fucking great on the other side of this. I hope there’s a love story, the man of my dreams, a job I don’t dread going to, days that don’t revolve around watching the clock to leave work then waiting to go to bed so that my mind will stop. So that I’m not thinking all day of not drinking, not thinking of how alone I am, not thinking of the reasons I wasn’t good enough for him and what was wrong with me.

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