I was advised by many women in their 30s
that I might always love you.
That I'd have to learn to ignore it and suppress it.
Well, I am.
I've been doing well.
When I think of you,
I think of what you did to hurt me.
But there are moments like just now,
when I saw the picture of you from the night we met,
where I can't help but feel.
Now the memories are flooding back again.
It's been about six months since you left,
and you're moving on.
I'm trying.
It's working, slowly and painfully, but I'm trying.