And one day you realize that you have actually gathered around all the pieces and stuck them together...and that's the same day you realize that you haven't put the pieces at the right places. Your heart is still frighteningly close to the memory of his eyes.
You wonder when/if it ever gets over!
And finally...the pain sets in...the irrevocable sense of loss...the real reason you feared love in all its ferocity, it's destructive power raises its head. You writhe in agony, lose nights of sleep...and in the search of an anesthetic you dare to ask the person who put you through all this(mind you, you are still in love with him) if he has a cure.
And then...you are labelled a MASOCHIST!