So... these paragraphs weren't written at the same time. I am suffering from a broken heart... and I need to express some feelings. So here goes: I left Wisconsin for Los Angeles one year ago today. In the time since then I have grown a lot. I struggled to pay rent, I came close to losing my job, and I experienced my first broken heart. I made several mistakes. I found some amazing friends, and some not so great ones. I have fallen apart and had to stitch myself back together so I wont do it again. I went to Disneyland a million times. I had a bonfire at the beach. I went on a road trip across the United States. I cooked my first Thanksgiving dinner. I celebrated my birthday in vegas. I took more chances than I ever have in my life… and I saw the end of a rainbow. My last year in Wisconsin I did way more for my career, but this year I did a lot more living, and I think in the long run that is important. So here is to year number 2, a year where I will burn bridges and chase rainbows cause those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind. I can feel myself growing up in a way I never have before. A part of me has always lain dormant, but now it is being dragged to adulthood kicking and screaming. You can pick the nicest, safest, most trustworthy seeming guy in the world. You can choose to let him in and you can trust him so easily, and somehow, he will be the one to break your heart in the worst way possible, because its unexpected. And the worst thing is, once he crushes your heart and demolishes your soul, you will have to live in a world where everyone you know thinks he is the nicest guy. They have no idea that your dismal expression and emotional outbursts are caused by him. You may get fed up and tell people, but no one, no matter what they have been through, will be able to empathize the way you need them to, because they still know, and you still know, that he technically still is a great guy even though he did the cruelest most impossible thing to you that you could ever imagine. He didn’t kill you, he didn’t assult you, he just refused to love you and he refused to hide his love for someone you disdain. He followed his heart, selfishly, cruelly and, ironically, heartlessly, but the fact remains that he technically is just doing what he needs to do, it doesn’t matter if he does it cruelly. The funny thing is, my instinct was to justify his actions and to work really hard to be his friend, because I love him... I thought I meant I loved him as a friend, but no. I loved him, and for that very reason I can't be his friend anymore. I don’t want to close my eyes at night and I don’t want to open them in the morning. I am forever fearing another breakdown. I keep thinking I feel better only to remember I am sad in a new and deeper way. The smallest things can trigger it, a fleeting memory, a glimpse of true love, a moment of silence or an encounter with the object of my torture. Breaking down is not longer an option. I have done that enough. I need to find a way to pull myself together and stay safe. Unfortunately, this is easier said than done. People tell me not to let them see how much I am hurting, to act like I don’t care. I am an actress, but I can’t and wont act like that. I am not ok, they broke me to pieces. I can’t act like I don’t care, because I can’t hold my tears back when they start to come. I tried keeping them in the employee restroom, but they seeped out. The tears kept flowing, flooding the bathroom, flooding the restaurant, flooding the city, and flooding my phone with angry and broken text messages. Its 4:50 again, and I don’t want to close my eyes, because with the silence comes a million more opportunites for pain. The brain is a scary and fierce thing. It forces you to hope, then it reminds you there is no hope. He chose. He chose wrong, but alas, he did make a choice… and it wasn’t you. It was never ever you and realizing that is the hardest part. It was never you. You should have known from that first indifferent response, but you held on because you loved him. You let him penetrate your heart, soul, and vagina, and then you had to let him hurt you, because you had no choice but to stand and watch it happen. People would scoff if you used the word love with them, but you know what you felt, as embarrassing as it is and as naïve as it was. Its 5am and I don’t want to close my eyes. I don’t want to feel anymore. I used to love those songs about needing to feel and needing to experience life… I don’t want that anymore. The only thing in the world that could help me now is not feeling. I don’t want to look, I don’t want to feel and I sure as hell don’t want to go to work with him anymore. I am a firm believer in the fact that far too much breath has been wasted on what we call “fair weather friends,” and not nearly enough on “foul weather friends.” I don’t mean friends who are there for you through good and bad. I am referring to the people who sit on the sidelines of our lives until the very moment when we need them, and soon after fade away again. It can be a coworker who pulls you aside and tells you that no matter what is wrong, it will be right again, no matter what. It can be a friend of a friend who sees your pain and tells you the harsh truths that your close friends can’t, or it can be the complete stranger who crosses Hollywood Blvd with you and tells you “he doesn’t matter, things will get better” while having absolutely no idea what happened in your life or who you are. Who knows if these people are as sympathetic and kind to their own friends in their real lives. All that matters is the fact that there is a phenomenon in the world where, when someone is upset, other people inevitably WILL try to help them. The greatest thing about foul weather friends is that they will be on your side. Sometimes, when you live in a world where the one who crushed your soul is declared far and wide to be the greatest and nicest person, all you need is someone who knows, just by looking at you, that that person is evil and cruel, regardless of everything. They don’t know this person, or even if they do, they don’t care how great they seem to the world, all they care about is that they hurt you. The pain in your eyes is enough to convince them.