Ugh, wow. More than a year later. This is the first time in ages where I’m openly and happily admitting to a man-free year.
His name has never sounded more meaningless; don’t get me wrong, I had a considerably fantastic school year (especially second semester) and I'd like to believe I’m the one who has shown the biggest symptoms of that Instagrammable improvement but it's really no lie that it resulted in some eye-opening action on my behalf.
Maybe this is the 6th time I’ve really thought about him in a year, the only other one I remember being crying over the fact that he got a Turkish girlfriend. That’s right, Turkish. I remember that moment probably because I was having a fantastic manicure day and I remember looking in the mirror while I was covering my face and seeing how freakishly beautiful my nails looked.
I thought I'd immortalise this moment the way Rachel called Ross to get closure.
I'm over you. Except I don't want the ending up together episode.
I got two indirect shoutouts in his Instagram captions throughout the course of 6-7 months though. No publicity is bad publicity, especially if the target market is made up of people you last saw at a graduation ceremony two years ago. That was also the last official day I could tolerate wedges being worn.
Anyway. I can’t believe this heartbreak made me write two double column pages. I’ve become so distant and reluctant to talk about this topic that I have literally forgotten how to even mention it; not to mention realise how unnecessary of a subject it is. I don't feel sorry for still looking back and refusing to smile at this entire experience. Sometimes things end in ugly ways and you kind of have to climb through that huge pile of shit on your own. No further explanation necessary.