getting-over-it

Look, everyone mourns at their own pace. Maybe you're just a little bit ahead of her, but she'll get to you eventually. The important thing is that you keep trying to talk to each other, even if it's difficult at first. It gets easier. I promise.

Healing is not about moving on or __etting over it,_ it__ about learning to make peace with our pain and finding purpose in our lives again.

Remember, changing someone__ hang-ups is an easier task if stays in the realm of sex because the carrot at the end of this trip is__EX! It__ not so easy to change other aspects of a man__ personality because the rewards aren__ as apparent and you can__ exactly screw the stupid out of someone.

You don__ get over it. You move past it. You move through it. You lose yourself to find it, and when found, it__ yours and no longer theirs.

For five years I didn't think it was possible to be this happy.But then he forgot all those promises he made. He forgot why he loved me. He simply stopped loving me.And this is how he did it:He stopped talking to me unless I spoke to him.He stopped holding my hand.He stopped kissing me good night.He stopped kissing me good morning.He stopped kissing me.He stopped smiling at me.He stopped laughing.He stopped bathing and showering with me.He stopped wanting me.He started swearing at me.He started lying to me.He started cheating on me.He hurt me.And then he told me he was in love with another woman and wanted a divorce.Oh, I forgot. He said he was sorry.I wanted to blow his fucking brains out.

Here's to love at first sight, and here's to getting over it the moment you blink.

Unless you have been very, very lucky, you have undoubtedly experienced events in your life that have made you cry. So unless you have been very, very lucky, you know that a good, long session of weeping can often make you feel better, even if your circumstances have not changed one bit.

VIEW FROM A HILLI am not yet quite over it.I am lying down on top of it.Surveying behind me a wastelandOf dried-up promise.While the lights below twinkleWith dull mocking uncertainty.There isn't much left to look forward to,And the looking forward of the past has been belied.

She bought seeds and raided nurseries and mulched and composted and spent full days with her hands full of earth, coaxing life our of the dry, dull grass my father had spent years pushing a mower over.

I had turned away from the picture and was going back to the world where events move, men change, light flickers, life flows in a clear stream, no matter whether over mud or over stones.

Well, dude,_ said Khalil, __ometimes you just have to get over shit.

The cigarettes you light one after another won__ help you forget her.