The famous photographer Henri Bresson once said "life is once, forever." And it is.

I've closed my heart off to my own boyfriend, and while that perhaps is a bad thing, I care no more. He is not the man I thought he was. All I taste is vodka and red bull when I kiss him. Even in the mornings.

I'll be going home for awhile. I need to. I tried to explain this to him, why this place is home to me. He laughed. So I went to another boy the night I got so mad. He told me everything would be alright and we spent three hours discussing the equation for gravity. He will be going home with me.

I cannot remember the last time by mind was so stimulated by a simple conversation. I don't have that with my boy. I cannot even talk to him, thus the reason I haven't fully broken things off with him. He doesn't listen when I try to talk. Maybe this will wake him up.

After all, every passing minute is another chance to turn it all around.