When I finally got my heart broke (many years later than it should have happened, bastard heartbreaker that I'd been), one good thing happened. I finally really understood where the blues come from. Listening to the blues, I finally really identified with what was being sung about.
And the tool that worked for me to get over the worst of it was to repeatedly tell myself "she's dead, she died." That way, I convinced myself that there was no getting her back. It stopped me from calling and begging fruitlessly. I convinced myself that she was gone for good and that there was absolutely no way she was ever coming back. She was dead. And it really worked.

Bark Woof