Whatever you do, don’t miss the way his fingers fit so snugly in the gaps between yours. You don’t need his stupid sweaty palm to keep your hands warm. Learn to wear gloves.
And if you promise me anything, promise that you won’t sleep in his shirt. Because you will wake up in the middle of the night, sweaty and pathetic and alone, and when you take it off in the morning, you’ll see all the reddened, warped marks where it strangled your skin as you slept. And to be honest, the fabric doesn’t smell like him anyway.
This next one might be tough, but darling you’ve got to delete his number. Because the next thing you know, you’ll be drunk and aching and if you’re going to miss someone, it might seem like there’s no better time than 3 AM. But let me tell you, there’s also no worse time for you to slur a blurry message into his voicemail. You won’t remember what you said, but you will regret it. I can tell you that much.
Lastly, don’t try to drink him away. You can’t. Alcohol can numb a lot of things, but not feelings. You’ll just end up sad and confused and if you’re already hurting enough, there’s no need to add a hangover.
So make yourself a cup of tea and put on that too small t-shirt you got in junior high. You might be hurting now, but you won’t hurt forever.—
Oh, and buy some waterproof eyeliner. It’s okay to cry.