It's been 4 months since my last relationship ended. More accurately, I got dumped because he "needed time for himself, doesn't want to be in a relationship and was not ready to get married anytime soon". And you all know what happens when a guy says that! Yes, he starts dating someone a month later, and plans to propose 3 months into the relationship. Nothing says cliche more than this storyline.
The rational side of me says he didn't cheat on me, people fall in love without planning it, and I simply wasn't the one for him. Ironic when that's not what he said a week before he broke up with me. It doesn't matter anymore whether he meant it or not. But let's not get into the details.
The irrational side of me says I don't care. I'm hurting like crazy inside, and I don't need a reason to be mad. I'm angry, and that's that. I'll drink myself to a stupor, and smoke until my lungs turn black. I will do what I want. I hate him for hurting me. I hate him for not choosing me. I just hate him.
But in the end, I'm just wasting my time. Hating someone takes up a lot of energy. I haven't felt this physically and emotionally drained in months. It took me four months to bring myself to the point where I'm "ok". I don't want to take another four months to get over this. I don't have that many four months to waste. But I know there's nothing really to "get over". He's dead to me. He's not part of my life, so whether he finds the love of his life or get into a car accident (just for example, don't want to incriminate myself here), it's none of my business. I shouldn't care.
If it wasn't only easier said than done.
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