You don't matter to me anymore.

So I as I talk to other guys with a light restored in my eyes, it bothers you, doesn't it?

You come up and try to interfere, try to avert the attention away from the fact that I am over you.

Finally, I award you with my focus.

And as we stare into each other's eyes, only inches apart, everyone else disappears.

It’s like all the unnecessary words in movies and books finally made sense. There was no one in the room but you and I.

Last year, this type of intimacy would've melted me. I think you know that all too well.

But now, it's me who breaks eye contact first. I've gotten lost in your brown eyes before, never will I subject myself to that pain again.

You continue looking at me, surprised that you couldn't dent my composure. Surprised that I'm not at your feet. Surprised that your eye contact hasn't shattered me like it used to.

I told you it was only a matter of time before you lost me. You didn't believe me then, but I know as I walk away from you for the first time, you definitely believe me now.