Excerpt from a Book I will Never Write

90

"I almost had it," I told her, "I almost fucking had it."

"Of course you did,"

and she stopped, I think she wanted me to realize that sometimes all you're ever going to get is an almost, and the only thing you can ever do is learn to keep moving forward. And so she started again,

"but then you find yourself somewhere he should be, or see something and think of him and suddenly it hits you like a truck. It hurts, it fucking hurts because he meant something to you, because you care even though he doesn't. But you have to understand something: it didn't all fall apart in one night - and so no matter how hard you try, all these little broken pieces, aren't just going to fall back together overnight. If moving on were that easy for you, then he never meant much to you."