Dear Diary,

I never write like this anymore, but I think I need to.

My finals are over. I'm sitting here listening to Fiona Apple, I was listening to Loren's version of Paper Bag, just to hear her voice. Each of these songs has a memory. Limp is the bedroom in the apartment before Loren came in to sleep with me, the iPod balanced on the arm of the sofa bed. Limp is driving down mainstreet in Greenfield with the music up and the windows down while Loren was in at her therapists. Fast as you can was escape, running away and running back, it was rushing back to the Allen's after Loren dissociated in the apartment, it was getting lost in Vermont. It was trips to town and warning signs.

I wish I had my Blackberry Schnapps, the schnapps I bought with Loren, the schnapps we got piss drunk on and then fucked for hours in a haze. I want it now to cut the pain. I want it to remind me.

I wish I'd never agreed to go out with Ashley. I'm only hurting her. I can't say I'm hurting myself, because I was hurt before and I'll still hurt after.

I realize now that I've only been in love once, and that was with Loren. I had thought I was in love many times prior to her, but I wasn't. If I've gained anything from this, it's the knowledge of what loves feel like. To love, and to be loved, completely. I just wish that love was enough.