I guess I’m already moving on. Or better yet, I think I’ve already moved on. I think I am already over the moments of extreme frivolity and lack of good sense. I am already over the butterflies. I am over the hopes of somehow managing to drag you into my life and to penetrate yours. I am not sure, however, if this is really moving on or if this is just an act of letting go. Nevertheless, I am freeing myself from all these hopeless and wasted feelings. Or maybe they have let go of me. I don’t know. I just woke up this morning and I just knew. I just knew that the emptiness I feel is not because of the lack of you but because I keep you. And I just knew that if ever there would be someone who would change my mind about my fixed thoughts on spending the rest of my life alone and beyond the grip of romantic love, that someone is not you. I knew this feeling is temporary, that it was never meant to last. And I am glad I’ve finally seen the end. This was what I always wanted. So, I bid you farewell though we never really said hello.