I spent my second week of my vacation at home when I broke up, watching time pass…now that I look back it was a wierd week, the most inactive week of my existance so far probably. It hurts because you care and it’s trying to forcefully detatch and stop caring that hurts even more even when it is a necessity. You do what you must though, even though I’d rather spend my time doing more useful things normally. Sitting outside in a thunderstorm just philosophising is kinda cool though.
Cala, pay one of your friends to go out with him. I’m sure some ass will make him feel better. And I know you have hot friends. All lesbians do.
There really isn’t much you can do. Everyone has their own methods of solving such a problem. Some people like to get reassurance from their companions. Some people like to just sit alone and dwell on it. Some people like to occupy theirselves as not to think about it. Some people will actualy consciously make themselves not worry about it, though almost no one does that with things that are really depressing.
As for me, I went on with my life, doing the stuff that I always have enjoyed doing. And after not too long, I was able to enjoy myself again.
If you really want to help him, just listen when he talks to you. There’s not much else you can do.
I’m depressed all day everyday. And nobody cares. I’m sure I wouldn’t be depressed if I had an ass to tap.
Wow, that situation describes something that happened to me a few years ago perfectly… We were together for over a year, first significant, in love, etc… Exactly what you described, and I reacted almost identically. Let him mope for a while, but make sure he still lives his life, I wound up graduating a year late from high school because I quit caring for a while, and that sucked. After about a month, some friends began dragging me out to have fun regularly, and that helped more than anything. There will always be some feeling about it, but it changes from Love-of-life, to fond memory. When hes a little more recovered, he’ll realize they were right for each other, and that even qwith love, things arent necessarily meant to be.
Not too much to be said that really hasn’t been said before. The first love always leaves scars. My firstlove was about when i was 13 or 14. we were together for about half the school year, and we were too young for it to be sexual attraction. But there was just something about her, that when i looked at her, it put butterflies in my stomach. I endured humiliation from my buddies because i would hang around with her and hers so much. sighs Even sometimes now i think about her, and the old wound hurts. Healing after the firstl ove is a vary long process, that sometimes never really ends, it just gets covered up, by things like going to the bar, playing sports, new relationships. Strangely enough, reading books that have a romantic twist to them, and playing video games that had a love theme to them really hurt, but somehow made me feel better. Listening to depressing music when i am depressed seems to help too… Anywho. I wish you and your brother the best with this ordeal and that he has the courage to look within himself and find the hope to move along, even if it hurts like hell fell on top of him…