Tag Archives: broken-heart

Are You Over Her?

I’ll come back to Part 2 of “The Popular Kid Was Never That Good at Talking to Women,” but I just really wanted to write this while it was still recent.


“Are you over her?” Lenka asked.

6 months before I met my girlfriend, I met a girl named Paige.  It was last winter break, almost a whole year ago.  The thought of her still haunts me.  She broke me.  She broke me in a way that I thought would never be possible.  Every so often I remember what it was like to be with her.  I remember thinking about her, and losing her.

There’s an underlying property to falling in love with someone.  In some way, you can’t be caught up with someone else, even if they have left forever.  They somehow can’t be renting out a soft spot in your mind.  I don’t think that’s true.  I might be wrong.  The thing is, I try to move forward.  I try to move forward with everything in my life.  Just forward, just a clean b-line straight ahead to the next destination as fast and as eye level as possible.  However, the truth is, a lot of the things in my past still gnaw off little bits of my hopes for a future.  It’s not just with women; it’s sort of like this with a lot of the things in my life.

With every woman I’ve met, I tend to keep a piece of them with me whether I like it or not.  It’s a little encasing that just opens up whenever it feels like it, or it’s somehow triggered by specifically chosen items of nostalgia.  The problem that I had was that I always found something I truly liked in most of the women I dated.  I ended up finding something unique in the women who’ve come through my life, and it’s hard to let those things go.  It’s taken me awhile to forget a lot about the first girl I felt an emotional depth with.  But, on some level, to be honest, I kind of wish I hadn’t fully forgotten.

Lenka asked me, how I could fall in love with someone when my heart is somewhere else.  How can I fall in love with her when I’m not over Paige?  How is it possible?  It seems like there’s something absolutely totally wrong with that.

“Why do you love me?” I asked Lenka.

In a cute, sort of embarrassed, type of way, she told me things like how I make her laugh and how I make her happy.  As I listened over the phone, she ended up scrolling down a long list of bullet points as to why she loved me.  I already knew what I was going to tell her by the time she finished.

“If I loved you for all of those same reasons, would you call that love?”