I used every last shred of creative energy left in my body to write a thousand-word breakup letter yesterday.
The most beautiful breakup letter he's ever read, apparently.

There will be more details, maybe, when I can order my drink at Starbucks without choking back tears.
When I can fall asleep alone without a DVD playing.
When I can actually listen to my iPod, scroll past Lucinda Williams, the Rolling Stones, the Afghan Whigs — Kelly Clarkson, for God's sake — without flinching.
In the interest of self preservation, I'm going to be taking a brief hiatus from blogging.

Until then, taking comfort in the past:
The happiest, richest thirteen months and seventeen days I've spent with anyone.

The present:
Raw cookie dough.
My sister, who I've never been so happy to have living up the street from me.
Sushi.
My mother, who, after the Summer of Silence and the hardest holiday season ever, spent longer on the phone with me last night than she had in the past year combined.
Six bzillion cable channels that have wasting away in the ether.
A thousand good girlfriends I let myself forget all about, too many times.
Resilience.

The future:
Overcoming my fear of…everything.
Everything that lies beyond the fear.
Writing.

A friend e-mailed me this poem today.
Do not let this moment escape.
Pay close attention, every second, with the thought,
"Now, I am living in this way."

Do not be distracted, do not think useless thoughts, do not get lost in the words of others, but rather inspect things for yourself.
In the same way, do not get bound to my words here.
Go on your own path!

Do not spend this moment in vain.
These moments pile up and become an entire life.

Do not be too tense.
If you are, you lose your resiliency, and then it is difficult to maintain consistency.

You have to be joyful in the living of life.
Every day, begin again.

Again and again, wipe yourself off and rise up from this tired old quagmire.
— Beop Jeong