Trying to Forget an Ex is the Stupidest Thing I Ever Did
I wrote the title, and three hours and fifteen minutes have passed since I opened this editor. That feeling of emptiness still surrounds me, filling my body.
The breakup has been a long time ago, and I almost can't remember it myself. But when I close my eyes, I still feel pain.
Facing the pressure of the postgraduate entrance exam while also experiencing the pain of the breakup. Many people feel that the pain of a breakup is an exaggerated display of sentiment, and the comfort they offer is that if you don't get into graduate school, you have nothing. I really hate it when people do that because I don't think it matters.
I lost about twenty pounds during that time, and my hair fell out until it was bald. I ate everything and vomited.
The most repeated sentence is: How can I forget him? How can I forget him? How can I forget him!
But as I repeated it over and over again, I realized it only made me feel worse.
It's said that the hardest time to feel after a breakup is when you're asleep. But I think it's every morning when I open my eyes. In that moment, I know I don't have him anymore.
Around that time, this film was supposed to be released in winter, and I genuinely found it dull. But when I cried hysterically in the cinema, I desperately asked myself, 'How do I miss you?' 'How do I miss you?' I also asked myself, 'What can I do?' And at the end, just as I was finally recovering, the young girl said, 'If you break up, you can try again.' I wished I had been more carefree. I realized it wasn't the breakup itself that was the most painful, but the fact that he didn't love me.
I've been listening to Wang Fei's 'Jingchi' (Demanding) countless times. It was the first time I let go of my pride and fantasized about everything about him and me. I don't know how many nights I went through these loops.
A friend told me the saddest thing about life isn't not seeing the sunset, but regretting that you didn't see it with him.
You ask me how to quickly get over the shadow of a breakup, and I don't even know, it's just like this, going through life as before, doing what I should do, and one day waking up to find that there are no tears in my eyes and my pillow isn't wet. That's when I knew I had overcome it.
I finally got through those sleepless nights and the inability to swallow.
Back then, the only thing I did to make myself happy was to run every day, listening to my favorite radio shows as I ran, isn't that what everyone says on TikTok – three kilometers to cure various frustrations, five kilometers to cure various internal injuries, and ten kilometers to run with a clean conscience and kindness (thanks to my friend).
If that doesn't work, I'll write a diary, writing all my sadness and pain into it. When I look back on it as a survivor of the ordeal, I'll see that the person I loved wasn't a flower for me; I was just passing through her bloom.
She wasn't particularly brilliant, just an ordinary rose.
After watching countless breakup movies, 'Twelfth Night' told me that a breakup is like a serious illness, and once you recover, you'll be fine. I think my illness is almost over.
