She thought moving on would be hard. Thinking of him turns to thinking of him with disdain not longing. The songs that remind her of him are just songs now. Their lyrics are something to sing along to, rather than analyse word by word. Sad songs are relaxing, not threatening and the song he loved to dance to, well she hated it before anyway. The guy in the crowd that looks like him is just another guy. The potential sighting makes her dart and duck behind the person in front for fear of being seen. In fact, now that she is moving on, she sees that the guy in the crowd is cute. The shirts he wore. The cologne she loved. His side of the bed. Lazy Sundays. All gone. Pushed to the back of her now, not fragile, but resolute mind and replaced by hope and excitement for the future. It’s easy, in fact, how did she really know she loved him? Or was it just infatuation? Hundreds of guys smell of that cologne. Hell, walk too close to the counter at The Perfume Shop and so will anyone for a week. Pssst Givenchy. No thanks. The bed is now hers, a kingdom of fluffy pillows, soft duvets and all the stretching out space in the world. Aces! Denial. What a rip off. Only when she is truly in it will she feel happy and even then she won’t know about it. But times like these when the excuses are just that, excuses, does she realise she isn’t happy moving on. She is not happy in the big scary world. The truth is, she knows it’s not easy. And she knows it won’t be solved in a day. However she also notices the lies and excuses she made up for his shortcomings. They are now replaced by the ones to help her move on. Which in the end kicks denials arse! Hi- Yah!!

I hope anyone going through a patch of denial finds comfort in the fact that it does not last forever. It did for the lady in this piece. I got better.