how to move on
i. delete everything.
it may seem stupid, trivial, futile. you don't think it will make any difference whatsoever, i know, believe me, i know. but stop yourself remembering why you liked him/her in the first place. delete every text, heck, delete their number. remove them from your 'favourites' on every social network so that you don't get tempted to message them as their name and icon slowly slithers down and you just feel the need to keep them at the top. stop that. stop it right now. get rid of everything, you'll only end up making a fool of yourself. your hands will shake as you do it, you may have to swallow a million bubbling screams that are growing hot in your throat, or the tightening in your stomach that feels like threads being tied in order to constrict you, but you'll need it. this is good.
ii. get rid of all evidence of them
give them back their favourite jumper left on your bedroom floor that time you spent the day curled up in bed together in your underwear. burn the box of matches they left. drink the beers in your fridge still there from when you went food shopping that time. rip up the cinema tickets from the first date and wash your clothes that still smell of them and scrub your lips dry of their kiss. soak in the bath for hours until your skin is all wrinkled, it too even shunning and hiding from their touch that escapes you with the dirt and grime. now your body, too, has never been touched by them.
iii. remove everything you still want to say.
it may be in a letter, or an email, or a text, whatever. breathe the words out, scribble them, tap furiously at the keys. it will feel like the fire is escaping your body and your fingers will be charred by the end. let the words coil out, vibrant and violent. you need to vent, you need to purge these words that are riveted to your blood out of your system. get rid of every bit of evidence of them in your system.
iv. stop looking.
when you're in crowds, stop looking for them, it will only make you anxious and excited and give you false hope. when you're online, stop checking to see if they are, or if they've read your last message, you need to adjust to not seeing their name pop up on your screen. when you walk to school in the morning, stop taking the route past their road and instead walk the other way, walk the way which makes sure you won't see them, won't be punched with a million memories of just why things came to be.
v. don't try.
stop thinking, wistfully, for change. stop holding eye contact, stop making such an effort, stop taking the blame. hell, go as far as not doing your hair for school, don't bother with make up, don't shower for weeks, don't sleep. don't filter your mouth, be the rudest, most cruel woman you can be. don't bother going out of your way to be nice, don't lend them that pen, i'm not saying to be horrible but just stop letting them walk all over you. get rid of that sign on your back saying to 'place feet here and walk all over.' show them that you're better, show them that you're holding your head high for once, prove to them that they can't hurt you as much as they thought they did. show them that you're titanium.
vi. spend as little time with them as possible.
realise there are bigger things in life than a stupid lover. go outside, read, write, paint. walk different routes in the school corridors. when you see them, force yourself into a conversation with someone so they most definitely cannot get involved. sit on the opposite sides of classrooms to them, facing a different direction to avoid the accidental eye contact and the staring at the back of their head. if all your friends are meeting up and they'll be there, try and get out of it and rearrange a date you can go. just give yourself time to breathe, time to be you, time to rediscover what that actually means now that you lack a plural. stop it, stop everything,
vii. be the person you could never be with them.
you'll argue that they were the one person you could really be yourself with, but underneath you know that was a lie. because there'd always be that slightly condescending manner as they told you about something or slightly judging look when you acted crazy and random when you were actually happy or that bored and uninterested expression when you tried to tell them something. so do everything you could never do with them because they didn't like to do it and it was the one rift between you, do the things they never approved of. ride motorbikes, smoke a cigarette, get drunk, get a tattoo, run through the street naked, perform your poetry at an open mic night. be brave, take new leaps, make new foot prints rather than walking in old paths. venture far and wide, see sunsets dip into the horizon, taste the salty air.
viii. grow.
grow until you're towering over them. grow until you shadow them. grow until you're larger, more vibrant than they ever expected. blind them. grow until you fit your body, grow until they can't make you feel small anymore. grow until you're bulletproof, grow until you're stronger than anything else. grow, grow grow.
