Love Is... A Temporary Lapse of Judgement (and a Cunt)
Today as I walked through town at lunch, I spotted The Cunt. I had been to buy pillows and shit, and had this huge bin-liner style bag, and had stopped for a rest and a cigarette on a bench normally occupied by tramps.
The Cunt was, quite frankly, "the love of my life" for a long time. But when I saw him today, I didn't want him to see me, let alone acknowledge me. I just wanted him to walk on and fuck off. And there wasn't even any hatred involved in it. I almost felt sorry for him, walking by in his tatty jeans with his stupid, slothish walk.
You know you're over someone when you see them and you really, truly, honestly don't want to know. And that's what I felt today.
The Cunt may have been a year-long obsession that fucked my life up in too many ways to describe, but I got over it a long time ago, and I realised today just how much I have moved on.
Love's a cunt, but the heart repairs. And after time, your brain cells refresh and you can breathe again. I've never felt so proud of my own ability to recover!
The Cunt was, quite frankly, "the love of my life" for a long time. But when I saw him today, I didn't want him to see me, let alone acknowledge me. I just wanted him to walk on and fuck off. And there wasn't even any hatred involved in it. I almost felt sorry for him, walking by in his tatty jeans with his stupid, slothish walk.
You know you're over someone when you see them and you really, truly, honestly don't want to know. And that's what I felt today.
The Cunt may have been a year-long obsession that fucked my life up in too many ways to describe, but I got over it a long time ago, and I realised today just how much I have moved on.
Love's a cunt, but the heart repairs. And after time, your brain cells refresh and you can breathe again. I've never felt so proud of my own ability to recover!
posted by A Girl Like Me | 6:55 pm
Though you might have recovered over this slothful fucknut, to the point of indifference (which, of course, is *the* measure of getting over someone), I think you'll find that somewhere in your brain there still remains a festering, gestating, pupae-filled nest of fuck-up that is a sleeping remnant of how the relationship affected you.
but with time, even that inkling of a thought will fade. and you will think of him so rarely, that he practically disappears.
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