I'm thinking I should take up smoking again. I feel like I need that right now, a night in some shitty diner drinking shitty Farmer Brothers coffee, lost in a book and a cloud of fumes.

Or maybe I should go to Europe. I have all this cash, this substantial savings, that was going to buy me a house. But I've dumped my only reason for staying in this dumb town and it seems useless to buy a house here when all I want in the world is to get away. So, to Paris. To Rome. To Moscow or London. Someplace totally different, where he has never been and I won't be reminded.

But maybe I just need a new lifestyle. I could become a gadget whore, regress back to the nineties and carry a messenger bag. Wear my corporate-logo'd geek identity on my sleeve. Subsume myself in an invented subculture to avoid the feelings individual me is having right now.

I could move in with my mom. Although that feels like surrender. I don't feel quite that lost and, if I did, I wouldn't want to admit it.

There's still art school, that rainbow on the horizon I look to when everything else seems ruined. I could pretend to be the reckless hooligan I used to be. But I'd be surrounded by girls the age of the girls he's been fooling around with. What if I end up comparing myself to them, feeling like I'm running out of time? But at least I'd be doing something with the time I've got left.

I need an action. I need a plan to concoct. I've got to get my mind off this. Today. Before it sinks in and I can't do anything but lie in bed.

Stupid stupid stupid I should never have believed him. I should never have loved him.