Stay in the apartment until 11:20, then make it for the last part of class - turn in the flower drawing and blame my absence on stomach issues or better yet "personal reasons."
Honestly, I'm not feeling so hot, so it's not much of a lie. Just going about this morning has been tough, too many things remind me of Eric. Even w hen I got to school this morning (before turning around) I received the text "do you know where stanley is" from Eric. Stanley is a paper doll from his little brother. He's been photographing it off and on in different setting for him. Stanley is a perfect example of Eric's continual state of disrepair and carelessness. From a bit of a distance it's endearing, but when you're around him 24/7 and you're not the neatest to begin with it becomes difficult. Carrot juice stain on the carpet, wine stains on a scarf and comforter, etc.
At this point I don't think I could find anyone as good as him though, which is a tough concept to come to terms with. If he's so good and sweet, why weren't we happy enough to compromise? Surely, if I wasn't his first all-encompassing, no boundaries relationship, maybe then he would have been able to let me breath instead of suffocating me. Yet, that is merely another "if" situation, and I really hate ifs. Ifs are for people who can't move on, and find themselves in a perpetual state of melancholy consternation. I don't want to dread and mope anymore, I want to move forward slowly, remembering everything. The truth of the situation is this: timing isn't right for now.
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