I start to think about all the good moments we shared together. This
is the kind of things you start to do when you are about to or have
ended things. I think about all the wonderful moments we shared
together, the kisses, the tenderness, the affection, the declaration. I
realized that I could really love him. I had loved him. And how funny
he would be willing to let it all go. All he did was nothing. By doing absolutely nothing.
Now I feel resolved and I am ready to move on.
But
I don't think he wants to move on. He wants me to be kept in his little
box, compartment to be exact. He wants to pull me out, push the button
and activate me. I don't like to be activated. I need to feel desired to be activated. He no longer desired me. If he did still, I no longer feel it. All he did was nothing.
Nothing is in fact, everything, in this case.
I am happy. He had brought something out of me, I felt, for a brief moment, loved, cared, and adored. I am happy those feelings existed for me, I felt something, and that was enough. Prior to this, I thought those emotions were just fairy tales, folklore, and rumors. Now I knew it existed, and even someone like me could feel it.
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Love is a fickle. Love is fleeting us.
Love is an emotion for fools. I was a fool. I no longer am.
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