My metabolism showed up again after a few years off. I have been eating a ton, probably due to being so anxious and scared. It's probably not good that I'm emotionally eating (it seems I either don't eat or eat a lot), but I have been a bike-riding fiend (and a running fiend), so I'm gaining no weight. It's weird. I'm not used to my metabolism yet. It's nice to have it back, though. It's nice to eat without everything I used to do.

I got on my bike today and swore that by the time I got off it I would be over him. I rode around town, one or two hours floating by in a grid of gravelly streets. It was hot out, but I cried the whole way, and the tears evaporated in the wind, sucking the heat of my skin away so they could be free, leaving me here. My eyelashes, long as they are, brushed against the lenses of my glasses and left bars of moisture. The only place the bars didn't cover was my peripheral vision, that tunnel so blurry that it is like a mirror covered in condensation. Trapped.

I was trying to let go. I have to, I think. I have to move on, somehow, be happy. It's so much harder than they make it sound.

I listened to Something Corporate as I flew down the hills recklessly, and every song was about him. (Someday you'll be a man, and men can do terrible things...) People do hurt the people they love. Josh never abused me. I know that he loves me. Maybe it just hurts me to know that. Maybe I'm selfish and angry and confused and lost and there is no justification. I don't know.

I rode over the chip-sealed streets as the sun hung down and the chill bit into the air. I saw the first trees rusting over, the death creeping in. I swore that by the time I got home I would be over him, but as I rode back into my driveway I loved him more than ever.

I'm so confused. I don't want to hurt people. I don't want my love to hurt you...