She tried talking to me again, and for the first time, I didn't feel compelled to reply. On any normal day, I would feel like I have to give in to her temptation, but this time I didn't.  I didn't give her the satisfaction of knowing just what it is that I've been doing or how I've been. The greatest part about it: regret didn't follow this decision.  She has what she needs, and I have what I need, so why does she continuously try to make something out of nothing?  I wish I had the answer.  So this was a little out of the ordinary for me, because eventually I would reply and give her some sort of response, but not this time.  Maybe this is becoming my pattern, maybe this is becoming my norm.   Eventually, she will be only a memory.  I'll remember her from time to time and play in the remnants of our past, but that will be it.  I look for that day. The day when I forget to remember her. It has yet to come, but I know that when I wake up in the morning, it all starts over but I find myself a little farther away from her.  More distant from her, my wings spread a little wider, and my heart soars a little higher.

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