Run. Therapy. Run. Training. Run. Run. Run.
It's been about three weeks since graduation. You would think that taking psych classes for three years and being engaged to a psych major would have prepared me for this moment. It did not.
My legs are tucked tightly against my chest-- my hands are white-knuckling the handle of the refrigerator and Lexington can't get me to stop crying long enough to get me to let go of the fridge so he can get me out of the kitchen.
