Je suis triste.


I’ve lost my other half and I’m not too proud to say I feel like I’m dying inside. I tried to leave frigid New York for dreary Portland some 30 hours ago, only to get stuck in the absolute last California town I want to be in right now. Purgatory, again, still. It’s seemingly endless. I’m in an airport bar having a drink, about the only thing other than the occasional bread product I’ve been able to consume since I started this whole process (thanks, TraumaTrim!), and I’ve just been notified that my flight’s been delayed until 11:49pm which likely means another night in a sad, sterile airport hotel listening to Bon Iver on repeat and crying myself into a fitful sleep….

This seriously sucks.


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