Good Try, Good Try

So, Day One of Not-Talking-About-The-Boy does not seem to be going well at all. In fact, I thought my iPod was secretly trying to kill me. It played five songs in a row on random shuffle which felt like I was taking a bullet (and yes, I know you can skip through them, but they were good songs. Oh, and I'm a total glutton for punishment). Plus, apparently, not talking about him doesn't make me feel less sad. In fact, keeping it all in may have the exact opposite effect I'm looking for - because now I'm blubbering up at all these random times. Stupid, stupid heartache. Go away already! I hate you.