TWO YEARS to get over you: MY BEST WEDNESDAY EVER

Do I like ginger-scented or ginger-flavored things? Heck no. But he did. I’d bought it for him. I wore it because he liked the smell of it, and the taste of it on my lips. 

I grimaced. How many times, and in how many ways, had I compromised my authenticity to please him?

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How hurting has helped me

I love him, and he doesn’t speak to me. I love him, and he doesn’t hold my hand. I love him, and he doesn’t dance with me. And I love him. 

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Processing Anger and Choosing Between Two Mysterious Vials

So stop wasting your breath speaking to empty parking lots. Quit straining your eyes, staring after shadows. Just get on your bike — feel the cool wind patting your shoulders and tickling your hair, and go find a warm, safe place to settle down for the night.

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You wouldn’t come; that’s all I needed to know.

I’ve felt myself dying in a hospital bed without you. I’m going to be okay. I know that I hurt, and I can imagine how you feel; I’ve experienced the entire spectrum of emotions regarding us and now here I am and there you are. Why relive that shit over and over again?

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Her Beginning, My Past: “Single and happy about it.”

I didn’t want a sneak-peek into his world anymore.. the cursory view that hundreds of others got; highlights here and there, and occasional showcases of the big, mention-worthy things. I wanted to know what he’d had for breakfast that morning.. hear what new, favorite song he’s been playing on repeat all week long.. and see what Marvel-themed t-shirt he bought at Target last weekend. Shit I don’t have a right to know anymore; shit I shouldn’t care to know about, see, or hear anymore.

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Should I stay or should I go?

But then I think about what – or who – I could miss out on. And I remind myself: Wasn’t each person worth it? Wouldn’t you trade those memories for NOTHING? And weren’t you strong enough to continue existing after life with them? You can do it again. You should do it again.

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