There was a cry baby once. Anyone who has his heart broken that bad becomes that. He used to ask me what he should do. Like I was some kind of love guru. He thought that I was a seasoned woman, who had been there, done that. I hadn't. But in his case, I had my say. Hold it together, I maintained. It's hard, true that love hurts and hurts the most. My friend. But if it's not meant to be, it's not meant to be. And he had to make his peace with that. And more shit like that. But he wouldn't buy that, the sorrow engulfed his being. He sank. Disappeared.
A couple months ago, I met him again. He has outgrown his shadows. He feels like a happy man. He has a new woman now. There are several pictures of them, with backgrounds of famous tourist towns. They look ecstatic.
He has moved on afterall. Conquered the invincible. Moved on and beyond.