I tried to drown myself in self-pity and cried for days, unable to get out of bed that time. The length of time I cried was probably longer than the actual days that we spent together. I listened to nothing but Dashboard Confessionals.

Chris Carraba kept telling me...

But you're chasing the ghost of a good thing
Haunting yourself as the real thing
Is getting away from you again
While you're chasing ghosts

I believed in you so much...I could die from the words you say.

...as I, in my state of mourning, forced myself to feel as sad as I could possibly feel. How wonderful it is to be human that a certain melody, a scent, the feel of a humid air, can ignite a million emotions of a series of events in your memory. Today I can no longer listen to Dashboard Confessional without thinking of him. It was mine and he took it from me. I don't miss him at all anymore, I miss the moment when I cried over him a lot more. I have nostalgia for the aftermath, and not the moments we actually shared. Is that strange? Today, I'm thankful that I chose Dashboard -- an adequate but not exceptionally significant musician as the backdrop for that period. I'm thankful that it wasn't Postal Service, or Ryan Adams or the Cure. He can have Dashboard Confessionals. Such Great Heights, Somehow, Someday, and Feels like Heaven are reserved only for those truly special.