Get over it.
Stop being sad.
He’s a boy not a man.
And if you can’t get over it, I will smack you.
Or hug you.
The choice is your own.
Like the way I feel is my own choice.
Like my heart feeling shattered is my choice.
Like I enjoy the fact that the guy I had feelings for – in a way that was similar to how I felt about G – like that’s easy to dismiss.
Like if I could just make it go away, I wouldn’t.
I’m not choosing to dwell.
I’m trying to heal.
I’m trying to feel steady on my feet again.
I’m trying to find my happy again.
Because, as I’ve written in the past, I felt such utter joy that to have part of it go away unexpectedly is not easy.
And no matter how much I try to push it to the corners of my mind, no matter how much I try to ignore it, it seems to pop out of the can like the can of snakes magicians use to startle people. When I least expect it, it explodes out of me.
I know it’ll get better.
But until I can process it as I need to process it (aloud),
Until I can cry without feeling like I’m doing something wrong,
Until I can just be…..
I won’t heal.
No matter how many times someone tells me to just deal with it.