My friend asked me if I wanted to get a manicure with her, but I hesitated. The manicure was $40 for a one-time session, a temporary extravagance I didn’t think was worth it compared to the other other things I had wanted to buy — new clothes, kitchen gadgets, magazines — things I didn’t necessarily need, but would last longer.
After our breakup, I’d often glance back at old photos, read our messages and reminisce about all the good times we had.
It obviously didn’t help with my situation, but it was strangely one of the few things that actually gave me comfort. Despite the pain, it felt familiar, in a good way — like rewatching your favorite cartoon shows as a kid and I couldn’t help but continue holding onto the past.