Being heartbroken in the times of quarantine is shitty. I'd rather be working, I'd rather be distracted. Nothing makes me happy. Not even TV or movies, which I used to find comfort in. Sammie does, of course. But food, no. I'm not ordering out much at all. I make soup or sandwiches and drink my shakes and eat string cheese. 

Mostly I think about you. And apologize to God for wasting the previous life I've been given by doing this. But how do I stop. That happiness I felt was like a drug. Going out with you, being with you just made me feel good. Being in the car with you, going places. 

But I have to stop torturing myself. I have to move forward and keep working on myself. Keep squatting, keep up with my skin care regimen, keep taking care of myself. I want to be happy for me. Be good enough for me.

But a little piece of me wants to come out on the other side with you looking for me.  Is that so wrong?