It's been two months since I returned home to Chicago.
That first week, I would burst into tears at the drop of a hat. I cried myself to sleep every night. I wasn't crying as much these days, but I still thought of Butch often and it made me miserable.
Jen called me regularly to make sure I was okay. I know she's worried about me. If I didn't have her to talk to, I don't know what I would do.
Butch and I talked on the phone a few times, but it was awkward. I loved hearing his voice, but it really hurt being apart from him. It seemed like every time we talked, one of us would eventually end up getting upset or frustrated. It's been a couple of weeks since we last talked. It feels like we're drifting apart and that just makes it worse.
I haven't spoken to my dad since that morning we ret
