cliches

Out of sight, out of mind.

I repeat this like a mantra. I try to convince myself that things will be better if I do not see you. I try not to see you. I urge myself to move on. I compel myself to go home.

Home is where the heart is.

I say this to myself, over and over. But this wretched heart does not seem to know where home is. It seems to think that home is wherever you are. It tells me I am home, when I am with you. It tells me I am lost, when you are not by my side.

Time heals all wounds.

I tell myself that, in time, I will forget you. I tell myself that it is impossible to feel so much for someone in so little time. But the heart knows that the mind lies. And the heart breaks, for it knows only one truth.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.