It was the worst of times

It was not the best of times last night. Sometime, mid-workday yesterday, I kind of crashed. It got worse as the night progressed.

I don't know what was wrong really. Just call it heartache.

Around 11:00 last night I finally couldn't take it anymore. I bummed a few cigarettes from my roommate, got in my car, and drove along the river listening to a Radiohead acoustic mix and Low.

I drove and cried and smoked and cried until I couldn't see the road clearly anymore. I pulled over and looked at the city lights reflecting on the river, and just let it all out.

Whenever things get really bad, I always go to the river. There is a long winding road lined with old-fashioned street lamps and very little traffic. The city looks distant from there, silent across the water. It's quiet there. I can pretend I'm somewhere else; away from the bleakness and alienated feel of the metropolitan area. Just me, the river, some trees, and my car.

I came home, exhausted from crying, crawled into bed, and listened to The Blow as I fell asleep.

*Sarah*

P.S. no reply yet from the boy...