The end of a relationship is such a crappy thing. There's no dignity in its death - it goes kicking and screaming, drowning and suffocating, no matter how much dignity you yourself try to maintain. It reaches out from the quicksand and tries to drag you along. And although no physical person has actually died, it feels like a part of your life has. So what do we do? We readjust, refocus, shifting things from the periphery to the forefront of our emotional depth, like an internal camera, digitally remastering our destiny. I suppose that each time your heart is broken, the refocusing period takes less time. A poem I once had on my wall ended with the phrase 'with every goodbye, you learn', and I think that's probably true. This is a tough one for me, but I'm going to try to come out of it with as little baggage as possible. Life is too short to get weighed down, and besides I'm a light traveller.
Just one question - why does it seem I always fall for guys who will never get over their exes?
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