Truthfully, there is no catch-all solution to life’s most cryptic riddles. Every so often, a stimulus wakes up from the riverbed that should offer some kind of comfort, like an other wrapping arms around you. Except the other is a ghost, the love is empty, and you’re little more than a spinning toy with no proven use. You know it and that’s why it hurts so much.

The best you can do with the pain is live, swallowing each day as it comes, whether it goes down smooth, burns the whole way, or stabs you in the neck like a really bad case of strep throat.

Find something to believe in. Doesn’t matter what, just believe it. Let it be a place you go to on the worst days. For me, it’s a bar, amongst friends. Let it somehow convince you that what you do have now might actually be better than what’s been lost. It’s nearly impossible to imagine a good wholesome companionship as being your worst enemy, but sometimes that’s the illusion. 

So live. The best you know how. Forward, backward, or lateral, just don’t miss a guarantee by getting hanged on a maybe. Live until life pays you back. Live until life shows you how to love yourself.