I've been going out a lot, every night last week except for Saturday night, the one night I actually had somewhere to be. Just wasn't in the mood to say more goodbyes. It's not that it's hard to be at the house, completely alone save for Damien, because to tell you the truth it's kind of nice, refreshing after living with someone for five years. I don't have anyone's mess to deal with when I wake up. I can take up the whole bed. I can come and go as I please with no one to answer to. And since Damien's here, I don't have to be scared. That was going to be the worst part when Aaron was taking Damien and not Emma or both the dogs, freaking myself out at night that someone's in the house. Damien's a good guard dog.
It's been eight days since I've smoked a cigarette. The very worst of it's behind me. I've been running for at least a half hour if not an hour every day and have lost a lot of weight because I'm still not eating regularly. It's not depression, it's just...change. I am really happy with the way things are going and perfectly satisfied with my decision, but that doesn't mean the fact that I've given up everything I'd worked for the past five years isn't affecting me.