You can’t think of anything to write because you’re too busy being astonished at yourself.
You just did the most sad, pathetic thing anyone on earth could do.
You also promised yourself you’d shutup about men, but since you can’t think of anything to write, and you think it’s unfair to state your sudden plummet into pathetic-ness (see! You can’t even think of a good metaphor you’re so disgusted with yourself!) without stating the reason, why don’t you just go ahead, say it, get it out of your system, and never speak of it again.
You just put the empty cat treats bag in that “special place” in the closet.
That’s right, you saved an empty foil bag as a memento of someone. A person, mind you, who hasn’t called or written. You’re not even sure how you feel about him anymore. But you want to make sure you have keepsakes just in case.
So you’re holding onto trash.
There is a line between romantic and idiotic. Sometimes that line is thin and hard to see. Not this time.
Let us never speak of this again.