subject line: how I got over you. Volume 7.


agloe, new york.

And you just want to go back when you love someone and they break your heart. Because you swore you both were in it for the long run, for the shared bathroom vanity at the end of a long day, but he jumped ship.
You don’t just jump ship when you had plans like that.
So in the months that follow, you just want to go back: back to the lazy days spent in bed, the adventures beneath a Mexican sun, the swim meet and the work parties, the study dates and holidays, the promise making.
But then it’s been 8 months, and you figure out how to move on: you can’t go back. And you look at the person, talk to that person— you just can’t help shaking the feeling that you could never love them the way you did before. Things wouldn’t be the same.
And that’s a strange and foreign idea to you, because the thought of never even sitting in their presence or saying their name again kept you up at night. But there’s a release in that, realizing you can’t go back. There’s comfort.
And I think that’s how you move on.