how to move on.

 Say goodbye. Squeeze his hand, drink champagne. Make love. Kiss his face. Cry, hug, drive away, blind with sadness.

Shower, wash his smell, his mouth, his hands, away.

Take down pictures, hang new ones. Girlfriends, family. Permanence. The dog.

Hide everything. The pretty boxes gifts came in. Little notes he left. Throw away photo albums, concert tickets, movie stubs, wine corks.

Cry. Drink.

Clean, bathtubs, bookshelves. Scrub out memories of beach vacations, Christmas, birthdays. Laughter. Push it away. Put it in drawers, sweaters to be eaten by moths.

Run. Suck in cold air. Count the months til summer.

Make mental notes. Erase them.

Meet friends for drinks. Survey the room, feel dismayed.

Tell the story, over and over. Hear yourself sound nonchalant. Feel like a fraud. Feel like you’re in a hundred pieces.

Miss him. Fuck someone else. Don’t stay the night. Feel hollow, like you could float away.

Do not call. Delete his number. Smile, smile smile.

Change the radio station when that song comes on. Avoid certain restaurants and bars and grocery stores. Every man coming around every corner could be him.

Call your mother. Call a friend. Hear the exhaustion in their voices.

Buy a new dress. Laugh at everyone’s jokes. Drink and drink. Be the life of the party. Comment on ‘the single life.’

Take a vacation. Kiss someone who tastes like margaritas. Get your sea legs.

Take a bath. Sleep naked. Sleep in the middle.

Make hot tea, take a walk. Buy a camera, take pictures of trees, your feet.
Drink wine.
Cry.
Paint your bedroom. Pet the dog. Take a nap, wear a summer dress.
Take a date, eat sushi, talk about your brothers and sisters. Read a book, sleep in, window shop, buy new shoes. Make a scrapbook, make spaghetti. Feel better. Feel something. Feel OK.

found here