It hits you at 1:35 am on a Saturday, that was a frustrating Friday earlier, but was a promising Monday just a few hours before.
It hits you when you go on your first date after a long relationship. The morning after break-up is considered tough, nobody thought to acknowledge the first time you meet someone new, and how it hits you in the face when they're nothing like your ex. Or, when a man does something you begged your ex for or when a man doesn't do what came effortlessly from you ex. It hits home.
It comes out in a call after meeting. Your colleague says, "I'm working extra so I don't have to deal with my breakup," she sniffles between the call. You want to tell her it gets better but instead, you choose to let it pass. She needs a moment to cry and you're quietly listening to her, carrying the pain for both on the call.
It comes out when you've spent long days and nights working non-stop, your brain is begging you to stop but you know, to sit with the vacuum of staring at your phone that hasn't shown his name in a while isn't easy.
You want to meet your friends but they're sick of you; talk to another man but that's not him; you want to cry to your journal but how many times again?
Instead, you let one out after telling your friend after a long week at work, "I'm like 60% detached, healed, I don't care now. I'm okay"
But, are you really?
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