You broke up back in November of last year and here it is, spring again. The air is warming up; the trees are budding out your window. She ruined your winter (take some responsibility: you let her ruin your winter!) and now that it's beautiful outsode, it might be nice to try again. You've boxed up her things and have made the necessary arrangements to deliver them to her. You don't really want to see her or talk to her - you've made a conscience decision about this and it's a good one. So you leave her things with her doorman (or at her door or you've mailed them back to her) and expect her to do the same. You wait for the email, alerting you to the time and place, when it's safe to retrieve your own things and that's that; it's finally over. But of course it isn't. Not quite.
Like you, anyone who's ever been in love has come to this inevitable and tricky place, when the sound of her voice is just too painful to bear. It reminds you of what you've lost, of what might've been. Breaking up might've been terrifically hard, but getting over it and moving on - there's nothing quite like it. That pain evolves from one day to the next, and over time, it can become unmanageable. But you've taken the right steps in healing your heart (and ego) by severing all ties with her. It has to be done like this.
Once you've made the decision not to engage - because, really, this is what got you hooked and will keep you hooked repeatedly - you've got to make sure that you stick to your guns. You're on a diet now, a starvation diet, and it doesn't include her, any of her at all. One simple bite and you're back to zero.
Of course, the first step is admitting you have a problem, that this is more about you now than about her. In your darker moments, you will feel angry and lonely and long for the times with her. You will want them back, you will go on dates and sit across from someone else and not feel a thing. How can you after you've experienced such intensity, when you know for a fact that she's still out there?
This will not be easy. You will go into withdrawals, if you haven't already, and you might binge on the memories, stuff your mind full of dead-end conversations. You might cry at random when you hear a song on the radio, a song that never made any sense until now. Everyone's had a broken heart, but it feels especially new to you. Maybe you'd never been in love before or maybe you thought this time around it would last forever. But nothing lasts–at least not forever.
So, eventually, you will try again. You will sit across from someone else and not compare her to your ex. You will smile when she says your name and you will feel differently about her. It's only human to want what you want and not to settle for anything less. You had it once and chances are you will have it again. And maybe, just maybe, this time will be better than the last. But you've got to let the past go - really let it go. Lose the regret. Lose the anger. Lose her. Spring is here. Go outside and live a little.
"David Levinson is a young writer who has mastered all the elements that make up a classically structured short story: drama, suspense, humor, empathy. There are no fancy pyrotechnics or meta-fictional devices here. He's a neo-traditionalist so the stories are direct, emotional and compulsively readable, plus there's enough mystery and action in them to propel at least a dozen novels."<br>Bret Easton Ellis