Friday

Take Your Girlfriends' Advice



The process of self discovery that women force themselves to face after an inevitable bleak patch of in their love life seems twisted and a little cowardly when you truly analyze what is at hand. What happens when a man breaks and shatters our best friend’s heart into a thousand bleeding pieces and we are left there with a box of tissues? (if they’re my friends a pack of Marb Menthol Lights and a bottle of Sangria) We tell them he’s an asshole. He’s an ungreatful blind bastard who is missing the best damn thing in the world and it is all his loss. How could he possibly give up a thing like you? He’s crazy?

Well let’s start this at the root of it all. Although as females we are bred to believe that every man is ungreatful and selfish and so shallow and peanut-brained that he cannot process an ounce of actual common knowledge, the necessity for romanticism or the importance of honesty—there are normal guys out there who break up with women for a reason. They’ve found something better, you’re not his type, you’re too boring, too wild, too absorbed in your job, maybe you could be the one but you’re not right now. All of these things can be legitimate, it doesn’t mean you yourself are a bad person, but you are not “right” for his life.


I am teaching myself and discovering slowly, painfully but surely that my life will go on without this man I invested my entire life into. I cannot blame myself for him leaving me, I shouldn’t try and change myself, and more importantly I don’t think I should get discouraged about love.

But what did I do wrong? Nothing!! I devoted every beat of my heart to this man. I love you but I’m not in love with you…. I found someone else…. I’m sorry.

No – Buddy – I am sorry… for even thinking you were the one. But – that doesn’t change how I feel, how it kills me to see you with her and know that she will never love you like me and eventually you’ll see that and I will be gone.

Why is it that I know all the right answers to tell my best girlfriend when some jerk toys with her feelings? Why can’t I convince myself that there’s nothing wrong with me, and there is someone right for me out there. I know, same sob story every broken hearted woman thinks to herself when she’s driving, eating, showering, working, working out, SLEEPING!

Romeo, Romeo. Wherefore art thou you jerk!

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