When my daughter gets her heart broken, I will tell her "don't wait for someone to bring you flowers. Go get your own flowers." In between her sobs during nightfall, I'll brush her hair and tell her that it is time she starts showing up for herself. "It doesn't matter if you have mascara falling down your face, you have the godgiven right to tell him he hurt you. That he broke your heart." Because sometimes their reaction is the reassurance that at one point they did care. But just because they did doesn't oblige them to, still ... And it sure as hell doesn't mean he'll bring you flowers. So go and buy your own flowers. Tend to them just like you did to him once before. Show your love and loyalty to those flowers. When you want to tell him how your day was, tell the flowers instead. Cut off the leaves carefully so that they can breathe a bit more, get more oxygen and water to grow. And grow. Grow alongside them and with them. Once they die, you'll see how you're still standing and you never truly needed them anyway, but the love, the love you were able to cultivate while they were here is what makes your heart a garden bed for all those around to bloom.