Forgetting did not help at all. I did not forget. I knew he still suffered from feelings of inferiority , I knew I still carried that air of a trophy to him. Nobody else did any better. The others tried to subdue me in respectable spaces . The others insulted me with out getting caught. He insulted me calling it love. But then men almost always begin with lust. It becomes a power game , when it is not reciprocated. It is a power game even if you reciprocate. After the ego is burnt down , very few beds remain cozy. Learning indifference is easy after years of tears.