Phenomenally Well, Super Super Great, Bomb Dot Com

“Otherwise I'll fall apart. I'm going to fall apart. I am falling apart.”
-Tabitha Suzuma, Forbidden

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I started to eat pasta again, the idea of Thanksgiving food wasn't going to make me vomit, and someone could mention Chuck Cuevas without it making me want to slap them across the face. I mean yeah, it still irritated me and annoyed me a little, but not enough to the point where I would need to text Kayresia or Matthew all, "DISSS BITCH."

I could probably even see Chuck, cordially say hello, and then move forward with my life! And not scream in his face or have backslide sex with him!

OKAY, Blair, let's not get ahead of ourselves here...

I was getting to feeling good about Chuck- less "he's a fucking piece of shit" or "fuck, I miss him," but to the awesome place when you're like, "DAMN, I can't believe I dated him lol." And referring to him as "This one guy I dated" and not "THE CHUCK CUEVAS THE NOT LOVE OF MY LIFE WHO SMASHED MY HEART TO PIECES."

You know, the good place! Where he's not romanticized and built up, but where he is literally just that guy.

I could listen to Hello by Adele without bursting into tears, and I could encounter everyday objects and view them as everyday objects, not as "the cart that Chuck and I pushed around that day that I gave him a blow job in my office," or "the Fitbit that tracked the hand job that I gave him," or "that dress I wore when Chuck tried to dump me, once."

It took me a full 9-10 months to be completely over Haz, to walk into him, have him confess his undying love, and for me to laugh it off and turn it down. And I only had a thing with him for six months! It wasn't even a real relationship! So, for teetering to the end of this whole ordeal eight months after my break up with the man boy I thought I was going to marry, the person I thought was the love of my life, the guy I thought I would be with forever, who was in my life for like a year and a half, it was pretty damn good progress.

PLUS, with Chuck I backslid like twenty million times. Like, a lot.

Like, we constantly almost got back together and made love, and all that terrible bullshit.

And then the worst possible thing that could have happened, happened.

You know how you want your ex boyfriend to think that you're doing great, and that you're doing phenomenally well, and super fab?

You know, even if your life is falling apart and in total shambles?

Well...the best way to completely derail that is to,

1. Be absolutely miserable at your job
2. Potentially fail the PCATs
3. Stress out about summer classes
4. Stress out about everything else
5. Have no romantic prospects because you're a spinster lady
6. Be miserable, secretly

AND THEN TO HOLD IT IN AND LET IT EXPLODE AND THEN ACCIDENTALLY MESSAGE YOUR EX BOYFRIEND.

A transcript for you all, because my pain is here for you all to enjoy:

Blair:

Kayresia I give up I fucking failed the PCATS 
I'm going to fail my physics exam tomorrow and be like a six peat in physics 
I fucking hate work holy shit I sat at my desk and I cried yesterday and Janet and Cora looked at me like what the fuck is wrong with her actually 
And I'm going to drop out and go live in the woods and sell soap or something holy fuck 
Why is this green 
WHAT THE FUCK

And my super pitiful attempt at pretending like this isn't happening and that everything is great?

Blair: Oh that was accident, Blair is doing phenomenally well, super super great. Bomb dot com. Sorry, my bad!

Can someone time machine teleport me back to October 26, 2014? Or maybe he'll see of it as a decent excuse for my erratic behavior.