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Wallowing

When I told my mom about breaking up with New Boo, she told me that I'd probably be over this thing in two weeks -- IF I didn't wallow.

I think I might be wallowing.

There are days that start off okay. I get out of bed and I don't think about the fact that I'm lonely. But inevitably, something will remind me of my single status and I'll start crying all over again.

Today, it was takeout food and cooking shows.

Since he's been gone, I really haven't felt like cooking. I got used to preparing food for both of us. But now that it's just me, I don't always feel like going through the trouble. So I order takeout. And it makes me sad because I live in the hood, which means that healthy food won't come knocking at the door. After a lunch of bad Chinese, I was sad. Add to that an afternoon of Food Network programming, and I'm in tears.

I spent the last two nights at work so I wouldn't be here alone. But I don't want to go out again. I just want to be here and rest and do laundry and live.

And I will. I know I will. I'm actually determined to spend a whole day here -- even though it's hot.

I'll also try to cook. For me. Might as well.

Straight up, I don't want to wallow. New Boo isn't worth it.

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