How does one cope with loss?

How does one cope with loss? How does one "move on"? "Moving on..." There's a phrase that's very painful. How does one does it, when the person that one is compelled to move away from is one's everything?

You told me yesterday ga, that I will always have a special place in your heart. So easy to say. I scrutinized the tone of your voice, and in my paranoia I thought, "You said it with so much ease!" I ask ga, how many square meters of space will I occupy in your heart? Will it be a wide lot, or just a small area? Will I just be a portion of your heart from now on? Just a fragment of your memories?

But I told you, ga, that you won't just be a portion or a fragment of my heart. You won't occupy just an area. For you are my heart's and my life's very foundation... When you spoke those words to me many days ago ga, my world crumbled underneath me, and I fell headlong to an abyss, and I am still falling, falling, falling.

You kept on explaining to me, you kept on comforting me, and told me that you still cared for me, because if it were not so, you would have simply disappeared without a trace, without explaining further why you had to leave. Yes, I understood you ga, but I keep on forgetting. What were your reasons again? I remember it was something so complex. Can you perhaps explain it in simpler terms? I've grown tired of thinking, of trying to understand why this is happening. I've become a philosopher because of you. I have partially plumb the depths of my self. (The days are long ahead, and I have plenty of time to go deeper and deeper into my mind and soul, to drown in sorrow, to grieve, to be tormented each moment our memories come creeping back in, to go mad. I'm looking forward to countless sleepless nights, and when I do sleep, countless nightmares.) I haven't yet become a poet, though.

Can't you explain it in simpler terms ga? Perhaps you can say, that it's simply because you don't love me anymore?

Where will I find refuge? In alcohol? In friends? In caffeine? In family? In God? In reading? In writing? In some movies? In some music? In a scene? In a thought? In some sound? In conversations? In silence? In medications? In distractions? In physical exercise? In vanity? In long aimless walks? In stories? In poetry? In essays? In articles? In my studies? In our talks? In devotion to some ideal? In some necessary labor? In television? In the sea? In some strange place? In a voyage? In a crowd of strangers? In humor/comedy? In laughter? In a river of tears? In prayers? Where, ga, where?