Tomorrow

Tomorrow, I tell myself. Tomorrow I'll get some exercise - take a walk, or dance in my living room, or do stomach crunches or something. Tomorrow I'll eat something besides carbohydrates (read: besides chocolate) and tomorrow I'll write half of my essay and go the library and do all of those things I should, I promise, because I just can't do them today. Today, I feel like my world has fallen apart. I know that I'm being overly-dramatic, and really, if this is the worst thing happening to me right now, I've got it pretty good. But, realizing that doesn't keep me from feeling like I've made a huge mistake somewhere along the way. It doesn't keep me from crying when I think of the carrots in my fridge, the carrots that I bought for his visit in February (or Andruary, as my calendar still says). I still tear up when I see one of the thousand reminders of him littering my apartment (even my screensaver taunts me).

I know that this is for the best. It has to be this way. But if that's true, why does my heart ache so much? Maybe tomorrow I won't have to cry. Maybe tomorrow I'll have it figured out. Tomorrow.


P.S. I apologize for the sappiness and personal nature of this post. I know it's not like me, but maybe it should be.

P.P.S. I also apologize for the clichéed nature of this post. I realize that I've said nothing unique and the style is overwrought, but it's as good as you're going to get today, I'm afraid. Maybe I'll make up for it by writing a poem about the carrots.