Being hungover sucks.
Being hungover on the first day of classes on my first day of university sucks.
Being hungover and also feeling like my heart has been damaged in an unknown way sucks.
Essentially, today, which should have been an amazing day, has started out extremely sucky. I didn't stay in bed like my body wanted. I didn't cry about who knows what like my heart wanted. No. I got up, changed into my cutest outfit, a short black skirt with a fitted gray turtleneck and green stockings, and left my room. All the make-up from last night, included what the tears streaked onto my cheeks, has been cleaned off. My hair has been swept into a low, loose bun with a few tendrils framing my face. My dress and shoes hung reverently in my closet, never having owned anything so magnificent in
