Spring Does Nothing for This

I know the rules. I’ve heard them all—forget her, distract yourself, go out, she wasn’t worth it, she didn’t deserve you, find someone new, life goes on, other mothers have beautiful daughters. I know all of it and believe none of it, and I walk through the park anyway with Kelly Clarkson and The Veronicas screaming love ballads into my ears one after another like a structured torment I designed for myself.

I bought a new phone weeks ago. My right hand still holds the old one. I’ve been carrying both this whole time, just for her—waiting for a vibration that doesn’t come, some proof she still knows I exist. At home I can barely look away from the screen, watching the social feed for a message that never shows up. I’m at the bottom. I don’t know what comes next.

She was Berlin to me. After we split I wanted to leave immediately, just walk away from the whole city. Becca talked me out of it, and she was right—it would be absurd to throw away everything here over a girl—but while most people treat heartbreak like a minor inconvenience you push through, for me it’s the only genuinely lethal thing I’ve encountered. The spring has arrived. The sun is out. I feel absolutely none of it.