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I stared at my phone. We'd been broken up for two months. Actually, it was 2 months, 3 days, 2 hours, and about 15 minutes.

Not that I was counting.

I wanted to text him so badly.

I wanted him to text me even more.

It was starting to sink in that we were over. We were done.

Maybe it was foolish of me to think, before he'd come over to talk in June (2 months, 3 days, 2 hours, 18 minutes ago) on that Friday after our disastrous non-wedding, that we'd be able to work it out. I'd assumed that I could apologize and he'd forgive me. Obviously we'd need to work through some stuff, but he loved me. He told me that constantly. I was sure before we saw each other that day that we'd ultimately be okay.

"I love you more than anything in this world. You are my whole life," he'd said the day after he'd proposed.

You don't just stop loving someone. Do you?

All of my current pain was bringing back how things were after he'd told me he'd been in the car that hit me. We were still in love then, but I couldn't be with him. At least not for a long time.

Now the roles were reversed. Maybe he did still love me; he just couldn't stay with someone who wasn't capable of trusting him.

If this was true, did he just need time? It was now August. Lots of time had passed. Was it dangerous for me to think that way? Is it better to cling to a thread of hope or to let go and move on?

I had therapy with Dr. Chang tomorrow. I'd had to reschedule because of a meeting at work, so it wasn't my usual appointment time. I needed to talk to her about all this. Maybe if she told me to give up on Shawn and try to start my life over without him, I'd listen to her.

I stared at my phone again.

"Come on, Shawn give me some sort of sign," I said to myself as I twisted the engagement ring on my finger.

Text me.

Call me.

Ask my friends how I am doing.

Maybe we'd run into each other. I fantasized about that. We'd look at one another and he'd realize he had to have me back.

I set my phone down knowing I was just being stupid. He was not going to text and I'd probably never see him again.

We were done.

We'd been done for 2 months, 3 days, 2 hours, and 29 minutes.

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