One Month

It's been one month.

An entire month since he walked in as if everything was fine then turned to me randomly and said we need to talk.  Grad school has started back up again.  Between work and school I have one day off per week to shop, clean my house, and study.  It's tough.  It keeps me busy.  And it means the only time I really have to cry and realize how lonely I am are nights.  They are hard.  I should be spending time trying to relax or studying or doing homework, and yet here I am, trying to hold it together, wondering if he thinks of me, wondering if he wants to talk to me about his grief, wondering if he is dating, wondering if he talking with his exes like he did before, wondering if he is back with any of them, wondering, wondering, wondering.

I'm trying to be strong.  Trying to protect myself.  Trying to only allow myself to grieve and cry and mourn for limited amounts of time.  I know my friends are sick of it, I know they think I need to be over it, but it's only been a month, and love doesn't work like that.  It doesn't.  And he should know that  too.