I can't believe it's June already. I really can't. Someone must have made a mistake in the books somewhere. June is summer. It's cold and rainy here. No one's wearing shorts. We're all wearing sweatshirts and pants. June... how time flies when you're desperately depressed.

It's been a pretty bad week, mood wise for me. It's been cold and rainy and my mood has been slowly sinking from last week's euphoria and complacency. I want it to really be June, complete with sun and happiness. Instead, it feels a lot like March, complete with gray weather and gray feelings.

I watched the Matchbox 20 storytellers on VH1 tonight. It took me back to 8th grade, when I was the only kid I knew who listened to Matchbox 20. Then Push came out and everyone in the world was lining up to buy the album I'd had for 6 months. I used to listen to that album and play Long Day over and over and think about how hard my life was.

They played If You're Gone and I just remembered that one night that Dave was fell asleep next to me and I put that song on repeat and just cried because I thought we had a pretty good think going on and I was trying everything I could think of to keep it together and he still wanted out. I think the most emotionally trying thing in the world is to try your hardest to make something happen, especially something that important to me, only to make no progress whatsoever. I was just like, "You know, I'm trying to keep this together, I'm giving it everything I've got, and it's still not enough." It was very hard. I just sat there and thought about what was going on and I wondered what I didn't have that he so desperately needed. Then, he turned over on his side, facing away from me, and I knew it was going to end soon. And a few weeks later, it did.

I wrote on my list of things to do this summer to stop being bitter about this. I made it my New Year's Resolution to get over him. And yet, here I am, in June, still hurting. At least I'm not crying over it anymore. I'm more sad that it didn't work out than I am that I don't have him anymore.

There will come a day when I realize that this was the best thing. There will come a day when I realize that what doesn't kill me only makes me stronger. There will come a day when I prevail. But, it's June, and it's cold, and it's raining, and that day seems a lot longer off than I would like.

"And I think you're just mean, I think we should try..." If You're Gone by Matchbox 20