The lyrics of Bruno Mars's song "It will Rain" are hauntingly prophetic.

It seems that along with a broken Achilles tendon, I will need to nurse myself a broken heart. So here goes, I suppose.

Another 365 days of journal entries, each day to signify how much I'll miss you... when you finally decide to leave me.

This time, probably for good.

I really don't know if I can go through what I went through a year ago. And I don't really want to either.

I'm sorry that I have to leave you. But I'm so sorry that you won't give that 0.1% a chance because I was willing to take you on those odds.