This endless days are going up in a blaze

Yesterday I was broken up with. At the time, its visceral sting was numbed by a month of; fighting, obscene highs/lows, and embarrassment. We both poisoned the well with the worse parts of our nature. Both of us will be happier and more satisfied with the embrace of neutralizing lovers. I know this, this is my internal mantra. While I replay these notions to myself, this morning’s shower was followed by an unintentional thawing of my repressed separation anxiety. I remembered the cute smile she shined, the eye makeup she wore for a pirate party, the subtly of her accent. I quickly removed myself from these notions. I am an attractive, educated, and good hearted guy. I will have many chances to be with beautiful and intelligent women. I recited these lines to myself; they were as smooth as high school rendition of Shakespeare. I can and will be with beautiful women, but no matter how beautiful they are, they won’t be her. I tried to sabotage the memory of our relationship, replaying her transgressions and infidelities. I forced myself to remember that her longest relationship was four months long, and that’s how long I lasted. I think of myself as being one of 8. Not the first, certainly not the last, just one of a cast that traveled through the revolving doors of her fleeting passions (below the belt? Kinda the point (and pun very much intended)). Somehow, remembering my unimportance to her life soothes me. I try picturing every nice thing she said to me being said to everyone else she has ever been with. I even try to imagine the list of flaws she will highlight for the next guy. Thinking of myself as nothing to her helps put things in perspective. She was a girl that I dated for 4 months… nothing more. Again a mantra I unsuccessfully tried to internalize. “just a girl, many of them out there, just a girl, just a girl, a girl, a girl. 4 months, 4 months. Hare, Rama, Hare..”