When he broke my heart last summer, all I could do was mope around in the heat. If I wasn't moving, I thought about him. Lots of walks to random places occurred that summer. The things that hurt me the most were not knowing what caused his sudden disappearance, what I did wrong, why he disappeared after he said how much he hated it when people did that to him. People are always leaving me, so I think that was what affected me the most.
There were mornings when I'd wake up and just gaze at my phone, waiting for a text from him. I'd be in bed for about an hour before I said **** it. I'd find myself crying at the most random times in the most inappropriate places. I was so deeply hurt and I'd never experienced a hurt like that, the kind you feel when you're actually in love, I guess. Everything and everyone were so ****ing bland to me. I wanted nothing to do with anyone.
I'd drift away in walks and music everyday. After awhile the walks didn't do anything for me. I couldn't even enjoy movies anymore; I'd be distracted by the smallest things. Music and time were really all that kept me company.
There were times when I'd read our text history, hoping that a new message would be there at the bottom when I got there. It never happened. I started getting over him by September, but I had a relapse in October when I found out that he was in the next building over from the main building on campus at school. He never once came over to see me.
Then it happened...
I saw him waiting for a class one day. The next day I finally caught him alone. To make a long story short [
Longer Version] , I told him what he did to me and he basically gave me a "it's not you, it's me" explanation. Anyway, we've been hanging out ever since then.
It's going to happen again, but I'm prepared this time.