Get over it. Get over him. You would have broken it off in a month or so anyway, because you are light years beyond him in intelligence, looks–everything.
You were just married too long. Now, you are acting like a teenager, which is understandable, because you were married for so long. Hey, chalk it up to a learning experience.
He is a jerk. He is the reason I am still single. Oh, I’ve dated “him” before, ha ha.
Seriously, he wasn’t cute enough for you. Yeah, I wondered why you were even seeing him. You could do so much better.
Oh come on, don’t blame yourself for being stupid. He took advantage of your vulnerability. He knew exactly what he was doing with a girl who trusted him. Next time, you be the player. Play him!
I’m sorry, but it was all about the booty. Don’t pretend you didn’t know that. The best thing you can do is walk into his bar with another boy, a really hot boy.
I didn’t go out with him, and I could have. Guess why.
I happen to know he’s already seen and is now done with someone else. Yes, really.
Get over it.
Get over him.
So many helpful opinions from those who think they know. Too bad hearing each well-intentioned thought is one more unintended knife shoved ever so slowly into my stomach.
I have a saying that I have often used to calm myself when the pain from illness or grief is quite deep: Tomorrow will never feel as bad as it does today, because today is as bad as it gets.
Today was remarkably horrible. Today, the pain was unexpectedly acute. Today, the hurt I thought was mostly done came out of nowhere, in full force.
So I say it one more time: Tomorrow will never feel as bad as today. And I add this: Because the healing is happening, even if it is imperceptible today.
Today is over. Today is done. The pain will ease.
I know this. I just hate today. Give me that, and then say nothing to make me feel brighter or better or wiser. Please, just don’t say one more thing about how it’s all going to be okay.
Because I just hate today. Give me that.