September 27

     I sat on the park bench quietly. The tears on my cheeks were stubborn, invulnerable to the positive thoughts I tried desperately to force down my own throat. My breath wouldn't slow.

     "Pathetic."

     The words of my now ex-boyfriend bounced around in my aching skull.

     "Look at you, trembling."

     I looked down at my hands as if I needed more confirmation of their shaking. The lump in my throat wouldn't die down. I sobbed heavily.

     "Weak."

     I couldn't handle it. That was it. He was the last one I had. It was official; I was entirely alone.