"Do you ever think about me?," he curiously asks. For the past ten minutes he's been picking pieces of grass while looking innocent. Who would have thought he could look innocent?

"From time to time," I breathe while I look at him through my lashes. "You're disappearing though. Naturally, as time passes, I think about you less and less," I continue, now staring at my hands. They will never hold you, they don't want to. He still looks like a "bad" boy but the features I once found overwhelmingly attractive no longer mesmerize me. "You're real. The whole time I knew you, you were almost like a god to me. You were unreal," I pause, looking into his eyes, "but seeing you now, you are very real." There is nothing special about you.

"I have to go, there are people waiting for me," I softly whisper. He looks up at me and I'm staring at a stranger. Nothing about him seems familiar. He smiles while continuing to pick at the grass and I realize there are no words left to say.

The sun feels warm on my skin as I walk to my car. I don't look back.

When I arrive home I see my mom packing boxes, slowly preparing to move. "How was the grocery store?," she asks. "Good, I got what I needed," I reply as I hand her the melted ice cream. She looks puzzled at the soft ice cream, and asks, "Got distracted?" I smile and shrug, "Something like that." Her eyes narrow while she states, "You look different." Quickly I say, "I feel happy. Sometimes the world is peculiar, but today I feel at peace with it. "Ahhh peace," she exhales, "I see peace in your eyes." I kneel down and help her pack, "Yes, I'm learning to forgive."

We pack away the life we built.

We move on.