As I stood there, I wondered if my actual, physical heart
breaking would hurt more than my metaphorical heart hurt watching her walk
away.
After careful consideration, I decided that no, my blood
pumping heart breaking in two would be a cakewalk compared to this pain.
I must have stood there, blankly staring, for hours.
Eventually, though, I managed to move one foot, practically
dragging it along the ground until it rested a few inches ahead of where it
was.
And then I did it again with the other one.
And again, and again, and again.
And thus I survived.
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