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It Only Took Him a Day


We were already the last two people left drinking in the resto-bar when my male friend tells me about getting over his long-time girlfriend in a day.

I repeat: In a day.

Ignoring the “WTF”-look plastered on my face, he continues going on about how ready he is to enter into another relationship because he isn’t afraid of getting hurt again.

(Ladies and Gentlemen! I now officially change my answer to the common survey question, “What super power would you like to possess?” It’s always been the automatic “I want to fly!” response. But after speaking with this amazing freak of nature, and admiring his superhuman-like ability to get over heart-break that fast; I was all ears and ready to learn like an eager Padawan!)

“I think most people, instead of focusing on moving on, focus more on re-living the memories… and staying in the past,” he casually says before taking a drag off his cigarette. The confidence in his voice cloaking years worth of experience got me hooked in an instant.

“But wait, you have to go through that process!” I protested.

I have always thought that experiencing heart-break was the most painful thing in the world. (And that’s not just because I’m a hopeless romantic.) I also strongly believe that one cannot skip the grieving stage, the in-denial stage...and jump straight to parading around the hook-up market with floating hearts and promising cupids.

What my friend meant though, was not brooding too much on the past and acknowledging how everything will eventually be alright. In other words, shutting the heart up and accepting in his mind that whatever happened was for a reason. Simple as that. No But’s. No If’s. No rocket science. No Mandarin translations.

Metaphorically, you can’t keep looking at the rear-view mirror while driving. The focus should be on the windshield – wiper stains, splattered bugs and all.

But in a day?!
My skeptical mind still won’t shut up.
Is this a Men are from Mars thing?

Is moving on simply a matter of the mind’s strength?

I mean, I admit to brooding over my failed relationships -- the countless Kleenex boxes, the replays of “One More Chance”, the unpublished emo blogs, the hard partying… (and crying in the bathroom stall after getting seriously smashed), the torture of playing love songs over and over again, the re-reading of lovey-dovey text messages, the staring at old pictures, and last but not least, (the one 90% of girls I know have been guilty of) – the waiting for that one text message from that unknown number you know is his, which you’ve deleted from your phone-book to keep yourself from calling or texting him, only to realize you have it memorized anyway. (Haha!) So I’m a chick, and we estrogen-filled creatures thrive on all that futile, pathetic drama…

I kept this to myself of course, in fear that my friend from across the table would curl his upper lip at me in disgust.

“So what was the shortest time it took for you to get over an ex?” he quickly interrupted my thoughts.

I paused for a while. “Shortest? Um… three—no, wait! Two months.”

He looked at me steadily and cracked a small grin. “Wow. That is long…”

I guess I will never arrive at an absolute answer to my question. It must be qualified to tailor-fit the experiences of different people and must be applied on a case-to-case basis. I, personally, found it helpful to go through the “slow but sure” process of drowning myself in my tears, denying how single I’ve become overnight; only to later find peace in accepting how I shouldn’t put all the blame on myself or how I can get comfortable with calling him an ass.

Not all people have the same emotional strengths. Some may find it better to let all the baggage and pain beat them up in a day, only to promise themselves they’ll be back up on the horse by the next day.

That being said, I clinked glasses with my friend; secretly wishing a day was all it could take for me too.

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