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I summoned my guts to remove the password of my last entry. Probably because I don’t care if you get to read it. That entry used to sum up how I felt about life. But again, things change. We change.

My thoughts used to revolve around you — how confusing you were, how we never got to properly define what was going on. You helped me move on from you though; we stopped talking. You stopped being the sweet person that you were. You stopped caring. You stopped being the person I fell for.

But feelings don’t die down instantly, of course. Those rare conversations still made me smile. The thought that I was the first person you tell your problems to made me feel a little better, as if all those times we didn’t communicate were compensated by a simple story. The fact that you spent some of your free time with me was enough. I wasn’t expecting more from you, although of course, undeniably, you used to give much more than that.

How could you not demand from someone who used to meet and even exceed your expectations without you asking him to do so? My life almost revolved around you. I invested so much but it feels like I got so little return. No, I’m not blaming you. Who am I to do so anyway? After all, we were friends. Just friends? I would, I guess, never figure out.

Does it still matter?

It’s probably too soon to say I’m over you. It’s relieving to feel, however, that greater happiness can be found through my interaction with other people. The simple everyday conversations with them feel a lot more special now. And you, I feel like we’re returning to what we were originally — friends.

Or maybe strangers?

Uhm, yeah. I’m pretty hormonal at the moment so these things might not hold true the next day.
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