A Google’s Guide to Life

I may have Googled “How long does heartbreak last.” Several times. Because Google has the answer to pretty much everything life, and because I’m 26 years old and this is the first time I’ve ever had my heart broken. I know, kind of ridiculous. But that’s what happens when you marry your first kiss.

So, Google’s first link:

Science Behind Heartbreak

Probably a good article, I don’t actually know, lots of text, I didn’t read it. But I did find a fantastic picture. Which, again, I didn’t read. But I think its pretty clear; heartbreak leads to your kidneys falling-out-of-your-fucking-body.

So really. I’m pretty damn lucky.

The irony of it all is that I always thought I wanted to feel heartbreak, know what it was like, be able to empathize with the rest of the world and all that.

I was a moron.

Because in real life, it kind of sucks. Majorly. Which, I know, is sort of a ‘no duh.’ But again, moron here…

It doesn’t help that this wasn’t a normal break up – it would be so much easier if he hated me. Then I would be able to get mad back, and maybe hate him a little too. But I can’t. Instead I miss him, worry about him, hope things are getting better for him and wish we could have just been friends from the start. In part I still believe it was only ever a fling for him, and that helps (any infliction, real or imagined, to get me to move along). But I can’t ignore all our deep talks, and shared laughs, the natural manner in which we fell into each other’s steps and lives. And I know everything I’m feeling and everything I’ve felt is all wrong. But it’s still all there – all the life that’s happened these past few months that’s turned my world and my heart upside down.

I just wish Google would give me a straight answer so I can start counting down the days. Because seriously, this heartbreak stuff is a disaster.

On a side note: I have a new-found sympathy for crazy ex-lovers and their law enforced restraining orders. Not that I plan on joining the ranks – the thought of accidentally running into him on the street nearly gives me an anxiety attack – but I totally get it now. In a not-ever-going-to-stalk-him sort of way.

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