Aftermath
The aftermath of a breakup is strange territory. Strange, because it tells you where you’ve been, and what you’ve really been doing, and how much you felt, and what, if anything, was real - and all this at the end, instead of the beginning when you really needed it. Hindsight. 20/20. Yadda.
It’s almost like the start of a relationship, at that; at first it’s so painful (analogy: wonderful) you can’t think. And then, slowly, you begin to climb out of the fog, to stand alone and solid in your own mind, and see things clearly.
And to some extent, that’s all a good thing.
On the other hand, you also find out what you have as coping mechanisms; apparently I’m a scifi-nerd escapist (who’d've guessed?). On a related note: watching Stargate reruns for three or four weeks in a row will rot your brain.
…
It could’ve been worse. I could’ve fixated on America’s Next Top Model.