I am almost positive that my psychosis began the day I fell in love. I'm also almost positive that my condition was not resolved the day my heart was broken. But what are you gonna do, right? I guess that's just the way it works. You get your panties all up in a twist over a guy whose eyes sparkle, but not really that much more than anyone else's, and then, one day, he tells you he's "just really busy" and it's over. And it feels like your whole life is over too. But this isn't that story. This is the afterward story. The story where you get your shit together and finally realize that he is not you knight in shining armor, but is instead a complete ass. So you move on. Maybe you swear off dating for a while, or maybe you go on a few rebound binges, or maybe you meet a guy and you fall in love all over again. All viable options. Me, I went the "fuck committed relationships, I'll just be a slut" route. That is where this started: in a club, with a fake ID in my pocket, alcohol in my veins, and absolutely no impulse control anywhere.
15 parts