I wouldn’t recommend banging it out with randoms until you are good and ready. Sex has a way of amplifying emotional states. If you’re happy and self-confidant, sex will make you more of that. If you’re full of angst and miserable, likewise.
But making out? Go for it. You’re suddenly single! Wild, public, drunken kissing is totally allowed. In fact, it’s prescribed. It’s possibly one of the only dependable cures for your lovelorn fever. Making out with sexy people is one of the few perks that comes with getting dumped, betrayed, or realizing the person you gave so much too, not only gave so little back, but wasn’t worth the investment in the first place.
Be a lip slut. Sucking face is good, wholesome, all-American fun. So long as it’s between two single, consenting adults, making out has never done nobody any harm ever. Do it because it feels fantastic. Because nothing beats that new mouth taste. Making out is like playing tennis with lightening bolts — there’s lots of heavy breathing, thrilling back and forth, and hairs dancing on end.
There are no hard and fast rules for getting over someone. It is an imperfect process: when it comes to heart break, some people are like the superhero Wolverine from the X-men movies, who has the power of super-healing (not to mention excellent hair, and fists full of cutlery.) They get their guts dynamited by love and bounce back a weekend later.
It takes some people longer to glue back together the pieces of a shattered heart.
I know people who need weeks of loud heavy metal, or slow country, or deathly silence to begin to crawl out of their post-breakup dry well. Tears are the norm for many. Perforating walls with fists is how a few choose to deal. In the past, I have ritualistically burned love letters, T-shirts, and other physical gifts that she gave me. It was as if I held a mini-Viking funeral for a dead relationship. And yet, other times, I have hoarded everything she ever gave me. Literally held things that still smelled of her in my arms, while rocking back and forth. Other times, I have drank too much beer, eaten too much dim sum, or just sworn off women (of course, that never lasts. But it feels good to pretend to be in control.)
But let me tell you, every time I have personally had to deal with a busted heart, hoovering some hot chicks face has always made me feel a little better. Why? It’s fun. It reminds one that relationships are supposed to be fun. And it make you feel sexy. It’s easy to forget one’s sexiness when one is lamenting the passing of an era.
Swap spit. You’ll feel a little better. I’m not saying go out and replace your ex. Just go out and have a little F-U-N.