It has been weeks since we’ve had any contact, and there’s no hint of that changing in the foreseeable future. I do need to accept that for what it is. And as much as I know these feelings are real and mutual – after all you said it first – the rest is only in my head and can’t stay there. I wish you so well, even though surely you must find it hard to be well under the circumstances. And I wish you success in all you’re wanting to achieve, with deepest sincerity, because I just Love you, nothing changes that a skerrick. Not even this: I am giving up. I want to stop thinking of you. I want your name to stop appearing everywhere and your voice to stop haunting me. I want to feel like I could care for another. And I want the beauty we have forsaken to not be quite so beautiful, the feelings I need to push aside to not be quite so exquisite and the happiness I’ll, now, never have to be not so joyful. If it would be easier, I could like that, I’m sure. It won’t be so easy, though. And yet, I’m still giving up. Giving up searching for signs and hope. Giving up believing there is any. I’m giving up dreaming of what might be, if you wait for me in the night, I won’t come because I have given up. I can not stop loving you. I tried… I waited for it to go away like it naturally should. It’s stupid that it won’t go away, what’s keeping it here? Not you. Not me, it’s bothering me, I’d rather it gone like the unfortunate ache it is. And I said to myself that you had better be feeling it too; something like this is not for a person to endure alone. But then I’d wish to soothe you of it, so perhaps don’t. I need no more reasons that I might run to your side, that’s for certain. And so, I am that. I am that notch in your belt, that entry in your list, unremarkable among the backdrop of many, unremembered, not the first, not the last. Just a one, of no substantial note. May I fade quickly and leave no trace.