I cry a lot. I try to get through it, to never let it spiral too deep, because that's how it works. It's a downward spiral, and you can't stop it if you don't decide to, and once you do, it's not as easy as just choosing to be done. You have to deliberately police your thoughts and turn away the ones that will get you nowhere, and there's always this temptation to think that the negative thoughts are important and true, that you need to learn from them to avoid making the same mistakes again, that you need to let them become a part of you even though they're sad. It's tempting to believe you need them, or you can't ignore them, or that you have no real power over what you think.

The fact is, though, that I could be looking for silver linings right now, or trying to see this as an opportunity. I do have the power to change my own state of mind, and I've done it time and again when my thoughts were taking me to dark places, but that's not what I'm doing right now. Right now, I'm giving in to despair. I'm not going to force myself to look for the bright side to this, because I don't want to see it. I'm not going to try to be positive and move on. I'm going to cry.

It's okay to be sad. It's important to let it out. That's not why I'm curled up on the floor, though, gripping my hair and watching the scratchy synthetic carpet fibers blur through my tears. I'm not twisting my face so much it hurts because it's healthy to process my emotions. I'm clenching my fists and biting my tongue because there's a lump in my throat the size of a brick, and it hurts, not because this is good for me. I'm curled up because there's nobody else here to hug me. Alex is gone.

His bracelet is back in its box like he never wore it. There's a letter on the bedside table.

My love,

I wish I could explain, but I'm afraid I would say it all wrong and make everything worse. Just know that I couldn't do this if I didn't feel I had to. I love you too much.

I can't go without telling you how grateful I am that you gave me a chance. You gave me every chance. Thank you.

Goodbye,
Alex

I've never felt like this before. It's not my first breakup, but it's completely different. Kirstie barely counted, and even at the time, neither of us was really torn up over it. Julia, well, I should have known better. I loved so much about her, but in the end, I hurt both of us. Still, Scott was there for me. He knew all along that it couldn't work, but I desperately wanted it to, and he understood that. He knew how much it hurt that I couldn't love her. He knew how hard it was to swallow the idea that the easy path would never be easy for me, and no matter what I chose, I would be going uphill my whole life. It's funny, because my whole life is going downhill. It's been slipping for a long time, I guess. Maybe Alex was just holding off the inevitable.

After Julia came Travis. It felt pretty monumental at the time, but we were never as close as I was to Alex, and we parted by mutual agreement. Once again, Scott was by my side to get me through it. Leaving what's-his-name was easy, and leaving Peter was even easier. It kinda sucked when Jacob left, but Scott promised me I would find someone someday, and I believed him back then.

None of those breakups could have prepared me for this. Honestly, all of them together don't even come close. I didn't love any of them, at least not when we separated. The only thing I can compare it to wasn't even a breakup. At least when I left Scott, it was my decision to go. At least when I left Scott, I understood why. At least when I left Scott, I had Alex. He held me in his arms. He cried with me. All I wanted was for him to take advantage of my vulnerability, but he gave me a stuffed animal and he protected me.

Alex was the one who kept me sane. He was the one who understood how much staying with Scott was hurting me, and he was the one who intervened. He made my case to his boyfriend time and again. He fought for me, and it ultimately cost him that relationship. It wasn't enough. He saw an opportunity, though, to put distance between me and Scott, and he took it. Maybe he saved me. Where would I be now if I'd never left Scott? Maybe I would have found a way to tear myself away eventually. The foundation was already crumbling. Scott suspected I was involved with Alex the whole time, and even before Alex lied to him, he was pushing me away. He knew what he was doing to me, but he couldn't stop.

Maybe I would have escaped eventually, but I would have left a lot later with a lot less of me still intact. Maybe I would have stayed, like I was so determined to do. I don't want to think about where I would be now, or, for that matter, where Scott would be. I failed him, and I failed myself, and I've failed myself again. I lost Alex.

I could have spent more time with him. I could have listened more. The truth is, though, that I tried my hardest, and it wasn't enough. I did everything right. I'm just not right for Alex. I can't replace Scott for him. Scott loved him more than I did. I guess he loved Scott more than he loved me. He was willing to commit to Scott. I was willing to commit to Alex. We weren't at the same place in our relationship, but I wanted him forever. I would have sacrificed anything to make it last. No Scott. No touring. I guess I'm giving those up anyway. I don't want to tour like this, alone, with no one to even come back to. Maybe now I have something I can write raw, poignant, soulful songs about, but I don't want to do to Alex what Scott did to us, and I don't want to bare my wounded soul to the world. I want to hide it away, cover it up, protect it. I don't want Scott anywhere near it.

When I changed last night, I emptied my pockets, pulling Alex's screwdriver out with my right hand and Scott's house key with my left. What was I supposed to make of that?

I could go to Scott's house now. He's out of the state, and it feels like home there, but without reminding me quite as much of Alex. I don't want to think about Scott either, though. How can he comfort me for losing the man he thinks he lost to me?

Maybe Alex decided he needed Scott more than he needed me. Even now, the thought of them reconciling is painfully beautiful to me. At least they could be happy. I don't think that's how life works, though. I think life is cruel, and we're all lost.

Part of me wants to run to Scott and tell him everything, but I don't. For the first time in two decades, I'm alone, but it's not really Scott I want to comfort me. I want Alex to bring me Ben and Jerry's and help make it better. He's gone, though. That's the problem.

I read the letter again. Short as it is, it's stained with Alex's tears, and now mine. "I love you too much," it says. "Too." I love him, and he loves me too.

When I can't stand crying anymore, but I can't make it stop, I drag myself downstairs. I pour myself a glass of filtered water and reach into the freezer for ice cubes. He left me a pint of Chocolate Therapy ice cream. I don't think a pint is going to be enough. I down my water and replace it with vodka.

I stare at it a good, long time before pouring it down the drain. I can't forget the moments I couldn't tell if Scott was alive or dead, the long night waiting in the hospital, or the phone call I made to his parents. There's no one to call an ambulance for me, and right now, I don't trust myself not to get to the point of needing one. Ice cream it is.