And.

The week after he left, I was walking through Ikea with my mom and sister. "I think I'm going to be ok," I said. I really believed it at that point, but it says something about how I felt prior to.

It was a grand realization that I could still be happy and have fun. Other times, it sucked. An ugly word, but accurate nonetheless.

We were writing each other at least once a week and before I knew it, summer was over and I was moving into the dorms - a place where I could, in a sense, have a fresh start.