We were lying in bed. We were talking. Eventually, the thoughts in my head were coming out. I didn't nessecarily want them to, they just did.

She was hurt. She was crying. I tried to reassure her, to let her know that I still love her. That she is my best friend and will continue to be.

She cried, she wanted me to hug her. She said that me touching her hurt. She asked me for a massage. She tickled me. She mimiced various ways to kill me (finger-gun, finger sliding in a slicing motion across my throat, throttling me, and a few more.) She looked deep into my eyes. She fell asleep.

It's over now. I still don't know what we're going to do about the fact that we share a queen-sized bed. Right now we're both still in shock.

I couldn't sleep. I watched CNN. I checked out the late-night updates on Something Awful. I went here and read a few comments. I did my laundry, so that I would have work clothes for my gig at the bar tonight.

As my clothes were in the dryer, she woke up. She was much sadder. Things weren't just a dream. I tried talking to her, but she was much less receptive. My clothed finished, I took a shower, and I drove her to campus.

So I have had three hours of sleep in the last twenty-six or so, and I'll be up 'till at least 3:00 am working hard. I feel so sad, and yet to relieved. I knew it had to happen, and I did it. I wasn't going to let the inertia we'd built up carry us through any more weeks of the void that our relationship had become.

The worst part of it was that she accused me of breaking up with her because she didn't put out enough. I've already stated the reasons, and in a way that's part of it, but the way she put it just made it so demeaning, so hurtful. I know I wasn't hurting as badly as she was, though,

I Loved Her. I still do, but it's time to move on...