So this is what it’s like.

So this is what it’s like
to try and move on.

Healthily at least, to move on
without the sex and alcohol,
without the dates and multiple men,
without the denial until the heart falls for another.

So this is what it’s like
to be friends with your ex.

The ex you still love fervently
and can’t spend a day without texting,
and wish to know that they’re eating well and hydrating well and sleeping well
and can’t help but to slip in virtual hugs every once in a while.

So this is what it’s like
to cry every night.

3 months on and still feeling searing pain
heartbreak and longing mixed in a swirling
mess of lust and hurt
“horny and sad” as you yourself put it.

So this is what it’s like
to try and be an adult.

To know that there will be a next one;
that this is not the end of love in life;
that one day I’ll settle down with someone else;
to know it while accepting the emotions rather than suppressing.

But right now, with tears falling since 3 weeks ago,
and a whole week of agony and insomnia,
I can’t let you go, I can’t move on
I don’t want to believe that you no longer want me
or want to be with me.
And with this hopeless wish for us to start anew
I melt into a wider mass/mess.

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