Turning Point

I realize that this is my third post in three days and that is lame, but I don't really care anymore.

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I really don't know how to feel about what you said. What you said about her. I was going through your pictures to remind myself that you are, in fact, a real person and not just some phantom character I talk to on the internet--and I made myself take a good look at the pictures of you and her. I can't say anything about her, but I could see that you were happy. And that's when I realized that I didn't care about how I fit into anything, that I just wanted you to be happy. This doesn't have to be a movie.

And then, we got the chance to speak. While I had the full intention of approaching this differently, you said you hated her. How was I supposed to respond to that? Now, I hate her. And as much as this could mean something for me, I will not take pleasure in it. You certainly aren't.

Regardless...

I think we both know that this is a turning point.

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What is a year?

What is thirty dollars?

It's a surprise.