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When I got dumped, I bawled my fucking eyes out. It felt worse than a death. "Please don't hate me. I'll give ya 3 days to hate me and then we can go back to being friends".....I never hated him. I totally understood the reason. We talked once or twice after and if he contacted me again, there'd be friendship still. And every now and then, the memories come along and I smile. His gifts still sit on my coffee table, on my wall, our trophy we won together still has its place in my dining room; it's part of my life, I'm not going to pretend he never was.
Yes, you need to do things...but my feeling is you need to grieve too. Cry, scream, get down into the pits of self-pity.....then tell yourself you're better than that and drag your ass out to the strip clubs and such...everyone is telling you it'll get better and you know that. But you also know wounds hurt and take time to heal. But some time down the line, just like the scars on your skin, you'll look at a reminder.....and smile because it was a part of your life.
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Don't blame me. I didn't vote for either of'em.
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