In the two+ years since I broke up with 1X, I've been pretty much on the dating wagon. There have been a few dates, a few fun nights, a few instances of intrigue, but for the most part, I've been happy to be alone. Or at least, haven't found anyone worth the effort of a relationship.
Until last weekend.
Monday came early and I started my week with crushes on two boys. One likely fun and one for serious. It was nice. And I spent the first three days of this week giddy and in SUCH A GOOD MOOD.
And then this morning, for no particular reason, other than that this next weekend is closer than the one that just passed and when interpretting cryptic signs I always assume the worse, I remembered why I was on the wagon in the first place.
Because coming down and the withdrawal sucks. You wake up despondant with a ball of anxiety in your stomach and it kind of makes you want to sleep for a long, long time.
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