Then he continues his rant,saying, "And even if I didn't know them, I know their type."
"And what type is that?" she asks,leaning foward in her chair,yearning for confirmation that he gets it,that they are like-minded in their observations of others and the circumspect way they view the world.
"Oh,let's see," he says,rubbing his jaw. "Superficial.Artificial.Sheep.
They're more worried about how they come across to others than who they really are.They exhaust themselves in their pursuit of things that don't really matter.
Throughout the ordeal, I learned that getting mad was easier than being sad. Anger was something I could control. I could settle into an easy rhythm of blame and hate. Focus my energy on something than the ache in my heart.
Emily GiffinWe both have a lot of growing-up to do... A lot of the world to see
Emily GiffinMots clés inspirational maturity realization
Anger was something I could control. I could settle into an easy rhythm of blame
and hate. Focus my energy on something other than the ache in my heart.
You can't quantify love, and if you try,
you can wind up focusing on misleading factors.
No matter what the
circumstances. I am more like most men in this regard. No second chances. It's
not so much about morality, but about my inability to forgive. I'm a champion
grudge holder, and I don't think I could change this about myself even if I
wanted to.
Love is seldom—almost never—an even proposition. Someone always
loves more.
The whole "misery loves company"
thing never applies more than when you're breaking up. The thought that the
other person is doing fine is simply too much to bear.
I will find the good in this loss. I will make something
happen that wouldn't have happened otherwise.
I subscribe to the notion that if you worry about something, it is somehow
less likely to happen.
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