They Tell You To Get Over Him

“Is there a day that passes
In which you don’t think of him?” She asked.

And I’m tempted to say no.
I think of him every day.
Because sometimes,
When he enters my mind,
It’s all encompassing.

I feel his arm close to mine.
His laugh tickling my hair.

But then,
I’m tempted to say yes.
There are days where
I forget to remember him.

I suppose
I still think of him most nights
When I’m lying in bed and the silent world
Makes my mind scream.
Or when I’m looking at something particularly beautiful
That would have been rendered
Even more beautiful
By his gaze.

But it is more like a flicker.
A burst of joy.
The flit of a hummingbird.
A gasp of pain.
As if I have gotten
Too close to the flame.

As if I was singed.

My headphones
Frequently spark
With the
Sound
Of his name.
It warms me from inside
And burns me alive.

I’m just the girl
Sitting silently on the
Train, while nailed
To a cross
Of fire.

This is what it feels like
To be damned.

And there is a lingering fear. This
Despair caused by something that
Almost happened.

Almost.

Like after my nephew almost stepped
Into that busy street.
I cried. He did not.
I cried from relief. From dread.

And in place of someone to hold, I grasp those feelings.
Afraid to lose them but wanting to be free.
Wanting to be
Free.

But it doesn’t matter.
For The Feelings
Have a will
of their own.

They slowly
Leak between my arms and
Diffuse through the air.

Every week,
That feeling escapes
A little more.

But, they expect it to happen
Too quickly.

They all tell you to get over him.

As if he is just a speed bump
That you have to pass.

If you dated him, they give you 2 weeks.
If you were engaged, two months.
If you were married, two years.

The understanding ones give you more.

But after that,
They start getting impatient.

They don’t realize that you’ve been trying.
You’ve busied yourself with tasks and
Thrown yourself into work and
Started exercising again
All so that you’d manage to leap over the vault
That is him.

But even the busiest amongst us
Have times when
We find ourselves sitting still.

And that is when the memories come.

They all tell you that you have to move on.

As if he is just a house that requires
Packing, duct tape, and a moving truck.

They don’t realize that during your relationship with him,
You’d acquired things that
Can’t be carted away
In cardboard boxes.

That you’d delicately built a
Valuable collection of
Pieces of information and
Engraved each piece with his name.

Like the fact that he likes his coffee with not one, not two but,
One and a half sugars
Or the fact that the scar on his forehead is from when he was 6
And tried to fly
Or the fact that his idea of a perfect afternoon features
Only his family
And a kite.

And that his leaving rendered
That precious collection
Absolutely worthless.

And that you’re now surrounded by
These had-been diamonds and
You can’t sell them or trade them for anything.

They all tell you there is someone out there for you.

But they don’t realize how intensely
You’d been hoping that he would be that someone.

That there had been those few moments or days or weeks
When you’d done more than hoped:
You’d known.

And they all question you:
“But… didn’t you leave him?”

They don’t realize that that fact
Doesn’t make it easy.
That there are still moments during your day when you’re
Forced to gasp for air because
You’re drowning in memories.

That you are indeed sure
Of your decision, but
That doesn’t mean
It doesn’t hurt.

And although you’re trying,
You don’t know how to
Open yourself to something new.

But you want to.

Because after all the above is
Said and done,
You know
That it’s all true.

You do have to get over him.
And you do have to move on.
And there is someone out there for you.

There is someone out there for you.

But
You have to give yourself time.
Because it takes time before
It can all settle.

Before you can hold up that relationship and
View it from a distance.
View it
For what it really was.

It was something real.
Something substantial.
But it is
no more.

Because they all tell you that
He’s a fool and a jerk and
That you deserve someone better.

As if he’s just an imbecile you happened to fall in like with.
Or in like like with.
Or in love with.
Or in marriage with.

They don’t realize
That he was kind and considerate,
Or driven and intelligent,
Or sophisticated and handsome.

And that there were those nights
When his eyes or his cufflinks or his deeds
Shined.
And on those nights,
You knew that
There was no one better
On this entire earth.

And that “he’s an idiot” is the
One statement you know,
With certainty,
To be false.

That everyone labeling him
As an insensitive fool
Is wrong, because he
Is an amazing human.

And demonizing him is unfair
To both him
And the time you spent
Getting to know one another.

It just takes time.

It takes time.

It takes time to realize
That you may not deserve
A better person,
But you deserve
A better relationship.

And they tell you starting over will be good.
It will be fresh.
It will be the beginning of
Something amazing.

But you’re terrified.

Because starting over means
Going through the motions
All over again.

And you are so done with the motions.

The things they tell you.
The nonsense they say.
As if they know.

And you know what?

To a certain extent, they do.

You will get over him.
You will move on.
This will get easier.

It just…

It takes time for
the stars to stop reminding you of
the mischief in his eyes.

It takes time.

Photo by Cristian Newman