“You’ve ought to...”

When you hear that they don't love you, "you've ought to move on" they say. They tell you to find another love, and to forget your shattered heart. And you wonder: How can I forget when they're all I ever think about?

Then you weep a little, throw some things around, listen to dreary tunes, sweep some things across the room. But nothing seems to heal your aching heart.

The world will seem lifeless and dull for a few days, maybe weeks. But eventually... eventually you'll get over them, and they'll be nothing more than a distant memory.

The pounding beats your heart once made, the blush that rose to your cheeks when you were near them; they too will be gone.

You haven't ought to move on so quickly, you haven't ought to forget them entirely. Instead you must simply learn to realize, that it won't be the end of the world.