The end of the moment

Hi.  I woke up this morning from a dream where you were the last thing I saw.  It wasn’t a good dream and it annoyed me to have you be part of the cause.  I even thought of writing an e-mail to you right at that moment, but then I remembered how we had stopped communicating.

Maybe the dream was due to my own action, talking about what happened with close friends, that my subconcious felt it’s a good time to test me by bringing you up in my sleep.  I don’t know.  What I do know is that I don’t want to be bogged down by my memories of you.

After 1.5 months, I don’t want to know why you did what you did or whether you’re still running away from your problem.  OK, actually I do want to know why you didn’t meet me when you said you would but it’s not that important.    There are other more pressing things to attend to right now.

Right.  I’m glad I didn’t write to you this morning, a dumb and spontaneous thing to do which will not solve my problem but I think would give you the satisfaction of knowing that you still have an affect on me.  Hah.  I said it.

– – –

I think I wrote here once that I think happiness is a series of moments, that it’s not a perpetual state of being.  I still believe that.

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