Your healing does not have a timeline.
You’re not supposed to be over him or her by a certain day. You’re not expected to wake up one morning and never think of them again. You’re human. And there will be days when all that runs through your mind is memories. Followed by days where you don’t even flinch at the mention of their name. Weeks will pass. There will be an achy hole in the center of your chest. You’ll dissolve under its weight. You’ll ignore it. You’ll patch it with people, with laughter, with nights staying up late watching t.v. alone. Months will pass. You’ll be comfortable sitting at restaurants, at coffee shops without wishing for their body next to you. You’ll find peace at putting aside the necklace he bought you, the shirt she found at that fleet market that fit so perfectly. You’ll wonder where they are—but out of nostalgia, not regret.
You’ll still have little things that remind you of their smell, their kiss their touch. It’s okay to think about them, for a moment, for a while. Some days you’ll get wrapped up in what used to be. You’ll flip through photos of the two of you, arm-in-arm. You’ll let your mind wander, let it hurt all over again. Maybe you’ll drive by their place, or the old spots where you used to picnic and lay under the stars. Maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll journal everything in a tattered old notebook and then rip out the pages and burn them. Maybe you’ll cry. Maybe, through your tears, you’ll smile because everything has become what it was meant to. And you’re finally learning to let go.
Time will flit by, each day becoming less and less long and painful, each moment suddenly breathing joy. You won’t continually be reminded of their absence. Maybe there’s a presence within yourself that fills the room. Maybe there’s someone else’s presence, someone else’s arms around your shoulders, making you feel at home. You will tell this new soul the stories of who you used to love. You will look fondly at old messages then finally have the strength to delete them. You will store the trinkets and gifts and notes in a box under your bed. And it will collect dust as you happily walk in a new direction.
You cannot rush the reconstruction of a heart.
This will take time. You’re not expected to become something beautiful right away. Even when they leave you have a whole heart, but you don’t always feel its fullness. Sometimes when you lose love, you forget.
Healing is the process of re-remembering who you’ve been.
And you can’t hurry that.