I was forced to talk to her, today, about what we had gone through. She denied that she had broken my heart, and I denied that I had cried. She could tell we were both lying.

I spent the rest of the day navel gazing, which I do an awful lot, and praying that she was doing the same, until I got home around 3:30. Then I slept until around 8:00.

After we splintered, that unwillingly became a ritual for me, sleeping for hours in the afternoon. I hate it. I sleep all day, and it keeps me up all night.

Before we splintered, I slept beautifully and feverishly. She made up all my dreams. She was my dream girl, as clich├ęd as it is.

She still is.