Notes on a self improvement project

On Sunday, Tom posted something about pulling a muscle in his back, to which I commented with a frowny face emoticon. Which I maybe shouldn't have done, because I was then notified of every other comment to the post, which of course quickly included a comment about morning sex...Awesome.  But he replied that there wasn't anyone to do that with...which made me happy and sad at the same time.  It was so incredibly hard for me to not jump in with a reply about how he could have had someone. It was, still is apparently, his choice not to have someone. It hurts so much, though, that he seems to still want someone, just not me. (On a somewhat amusing side note to that story, someone who knew my brother in high school commented to me, asking about him. We hijacked the thread for a while.) Then, a few days ago, Tom randomly messaged me with old photos from one of his yearbooks.  I can't even tell you how it felt to see a message from him. We talked for just a few minutes, and...

It has been a week since Tom ended our relationship officially and, because I haven't talked to him at all since, apparently permanently.  I have kept breathing through it.  I'm not sure how or why, and sometimes not sure I wanted to, but I have. In this week, I've gotten a lot of advice.  It is good advice and I know the people giving it mean well.  They are giving me the advice because they care and they are trying to help.  I appreciate all of that.  It's just that the advice doesn't really help:  Remember, this is probably for best.  One door has to close for another one to open.  *shrug* Just move on.   Move on to what?  What door is going to open?  What is for the best about this?   What better thing is out there?  Where?  How do I find it?  I don't know.  That's never part of the advice. The advice I've gotten the most is some variation of be strong.  The thing is, I already know ...