I meant to post this before...just realized I never did...
The day Chao left was incredibly hard. I found myself sobbing at inopportune times.
At work I had to hole myself up in the bathroom stall and let the tears out. When I had finished crying, I splashed cold water on my face and stared at myself- red eyes and puffy.
Some people look gorgeous crying. I'm not one of them.
When I walked back into the slick offices of my current PR office- the Christian Louboutin heels clacking away- one of the impossibly skinny glamourous girls noticed I had been crying- but as this office has an air of cold professionalism.... because of the hunger (for ambition, not carbs), she simply smiled at me and said, "Want some coffee?"
I loved that.
That first weekend was a little hard, but I met up with friends and went to the standard Chelsea gay house party- full of guys in stripped button down shirts (think Ted Baker), beefy bartenders in tight tees, and cocaine being snorted like its 1988.
All in all, I had some fun, but things aren't the same. My partner-in-crime is gone.
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