I wanted it to happen quickly. No one wants the devastation to last. With my heart ripped in two by you, I hoped to start over. To rise from the ashes of our messy breakup like a phoenix, confident and stable and ready to find someone new.
It doesn’t work like that. For me, there’s not you one day and someone else the next. There’s defeat, there’s heartache. Evenings spent crying into my pillow and wishing for what we had. Getting over you takes work. Time.
But it happens. Slowly. Day by day. No abrupt reversal of fortunes but something steady that happens in inches instead of miles.
That’s okay. Because now when I say I’m over you, I mean it.