This article is a bunch of dumb stupid shit. Men aren’t some fucking robots that just fuck a pussy and their emotional issues all magically vanish. What the hell does “moving on” even mean? I have never seen this term actually defined in concrete terms. Is it when the thought of a significant other no longer brings pain? Is it when you can bear to see them on the street and feel nothing? Is it when you can talk with them face to face without feeling the urge to either jump their bones or stab them in the fucking chest?

Lots of us probably never know if an ex has “moved on”. Sure, if we’re masochistic we can find out that they’re fucking someone or even dating them, but we’ll never know what goes on in their skulls, what happens when the thought of us crosses their mind or how they react when they come across a photo of us. I likened myself to a heroin addict recently. Sure, I’ve gotten over her, but the addiction still sits under the surface. No one is ever really clean, and if I ever saw her again, I’m sure that addiction would float back to the surface.

It’s shit like that dumb fucking article that gets me musing about this crap, that dregs up the shit that I’ve masticated for months over and over until it’s become a shapeless fucking paste.

 

Anyway, just a few more days left until I head to Boston for a little vacation before my first rotation kicks off. I’m really looking forward to it.

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