- … It turned out that he wasn’t in love with me like I thought. What I’m trying to say is, I understand feeling as small and as insignicant 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 and how you could have misunderstood. And how in hell for that brief moment, you could think that you were that happy? And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he’ll see the light and show up at your door. And after all that, however long all that may be, you’ll go somewhere new and you’ll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again, and little pieces 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.
- That’s what you’re doing here? You’re getting over somebody?
- Yeah. This is me in good shape.
- Is this the guy who sent you pages from his novel?
- Yeah. He needs me.
- So he stays in touch?
- All the time.
- So that makes it impossible to forget him which is great for him but sucks for you.
- You see how great your life is compared to mine?
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