I know it's hard to believe people when they say, "I know how you feel".
I know you don't believe I know how you feel .
but I actually know you feel.
You see, I was seeing someone back in London. I was in London once with someone.
We work for the same newspaper
and I found out that he was also seeing this other girl, Sarsh from the circulation department on the 19th floor.
It turned out that he wasn't in love with me like I thought. He didn't love me like I thought at all.
What I'm trying to say is, I understand feeling as small and as insighificant as humanly possible
and how it can actually ache in places that you didn't know you had inside you.
and it doesn't matter how many new haircuts you get or gyms you join or how many glasses of chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends,
you still go to bed every night going over every detail,
and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood, and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have misunderstood,
and how in the hell, for that brief moment, you could think that you were that happy? In the end ask yourself how you could mistake a short-lived joy for a permanent one.
And sometimes you can convince yourself that he'll see the light and show up at your door, and sometimes you can convince yourself that he'll figure it out and come back.
And after all that, however long all that may be, you'll go somewhere new. After all that, people start over.
And you'll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again, and little piece of your soul will finally come back.
And all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade.
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