Hmm... I guess Tori Amos was right. Being alone and locking ourselves into our rooms "is wasteful of our time here."

I didn't stop thinking about him and our time back in the summer of '95 to realize that I had idolized and altered his image to that of the perfect lover. Yes, he was that. He was also considerate, polite, reticent but not to a fault, attractive, romantic, and very smart. But, after our last recent encounter, I had forgotten how complex he really was (especially concerning his family's involvement in his life) and how much he shielded me from the troubles he was going through. Whether that would've made a difference back then... I cannot be sure. Ever since I took a moment to wonder how life would be had I a chance to live it over... and so many things may have developed differently that I'm glad I've lived life the way I have. Even if I've made too many mistakes.

I still haven't thrown away your necklace. The one you put on me that magical night, dancing under streetlights and stars. But if I want to keep on living life at a calmer pace, I need to forget the false you I created. Sorry, now we've grown so far apart you're as good as a stranger to me. And I don't know whether the good traits that were merely exaggerated in my mind still exist in their lesser states.

One thing I have to say, though. You were still a great lover. Goodbye my muse.

And thank you, Matt. It feels great talking again.

. . . . . posted:||10:58 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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