However mean your life is, meet it and live it; do not shun it and call it hard names. It is not so bad as you are. It looks poorest when you are richest. The fault-finder will find faults even in paradise. Love your life, poor as it is. You may perhaps have some pleasant, thrilling, glorious hours, even in a poorhouse. The setting sun is reflected from the windows of the almshouse as brightly as from the rich man’s abode; the snow melts before its door as early in the spring. I do not see but a quiet mind may live as contentedly there, and have as cheering thoughts, as in a palace.
You might not believe it right now, but there will someday come a time when you’ll stop thinking about him. You’ll stop wondering what he’s doing, how he is, and who he’s been spending his time with since giving up on you. As each day goes by to fill weeks and then months, your mind will create a gap, and everything you think about now will just fall through and turn to dust, to make room for something else, for something better. And you’ll start to live life on your own terms again, without being defined by somebody who doesn’t deserve a second thought. And what’s even better is that you won’t give him one.
I wanna go on a roadtrip someday. Alone or with someone I love. I wanna get away. Explore places. Sleep in the car. Stop a lot just to admire the view. Visit museums and try out coffee shops. Listen to my favorite albums while driving. Have a polaroid camera. Take pretty pictures of the sunrise. Take pictures of myself. Run through a forest. Chase fog. Chase the sun. Spend hours on a field making flower crowns. Feel the wind in my hair. Buy souvenirs. Meet people. Take time to observe. I wanna make memories. I wanna feel alive.