Other people move on, I know they do, but I don’t know how they do. The angry ugly spiteful side of me says “well maybe they didn’t love their person as much” but that’s probably not it.
Picture the person you love most in the world; someone who loves you as much as you love them. Maybe it’s your partner or your best friend or your kid or whoever. Imagine going up to them and saying “I don’t need you anymore” and then turning around and walking out of their life forever. Imagine the pain on their face, how much it would hurt to do that to them and to yourself, and the hole it would leave inside of you.
When people tell me I need to move on, that’s what they’re telling me to do.
In three days it will have been three years, but it feels like it’s been maybe three weeks to three months at most.
Imagine if someone broke your knees with a hammer, then told you to run a marathon. Or cut off your fingers with garden shears, then told you to play the piano. That’s what it’s like to take her away from me, then tell me to go live my life.
I can’t fucking do it.
Picture the person you love most in the world; someone who loves you as much as you love them. Maybe it’s your partner or your best friend or your kid or whoever. Imagine going up to them and saying “I don’t need you anymore” and then turning around and walking out of their life forever. Imagine the pain on their face, how much it would hurt to do that to them and to yourself, and the hole it would leave inside of you.
When people tell me I need to move on, that’s what they’re telling me to do.
In three days it will have been three years, but it feels like it’s been maybe three weeks to three months at most.
Imagine if someone broke your knees with a hammer, then told you to run a marathon. Or cut off your fingers with garden shears, then told you to play the piano. That’s what it’s like to take her away from me, then tell me to go live my life.
I can’t fucking do it.
Last edited: