.20.

For over a year now, I'd been dreaming and wondering of what I would do if the girl I once loved said she didn't hate me anymore.

If she asked for me to not hate her and for our feud to end and can't we be some semblance of friends again?

It's been almost three weeks since that happened and after the moment was gone, I haven't thought about it since. I have a stronger urge to go back to reading my book then trying to strike up a conversation with her.

And with things the way they are, I probably will never see her again. Because I don't need to go out to a bar to hang around with people trying to fuck me to feel less lonely anymore and that's her group of people. I'm no longer fighting for a foothold in them when finally I don't feel a need to have a place with them.

The truth of the matter is, I think my love for her is finally dead and buried. She doesn't make my heart seize up and my veins collapse when I think of her memory. I can listen to the Hippos or the Aquabats with nothing more that an itch at the top of my spine during the first couple of notes. It won't reduce me to tears or blind anger.

It's nice to realize you've moved on.