"So I breed a thicker skin and let my lustruous coat fill in, and I'll never admit that I loved you."

I mailed off Andrew's book today, because I finally done using it for class. Inside the book I attached a little note saying thank you and kindly requesting for the return of my Sherlock Holmes book. Whether or not he does return my book back to me is a different story.

After I mailed it off I asked myself why couldn't I just mail off the book right after the breakup, buy a new version of the book, and then there would of been no more attachment. But I know that's not true.

With or without the book... I would of still thought of him. I would still be able to remember what he said to me that night. I would of still missed him being apart of my life, even though he hurt me so much. I would of still panic walking by fifth avenue - because I knew I would run into him. Or the chances running into him there were higher than anywhere else in the city. I would still break a little on the inside regardless.

But this post isn't about me still missing him - or wanting him in my life back in my life again. Perhaps it's exactly as they said. Maybe, just maybe, my mind is over him. Or maybe it's that my mind is numbly begging me to stop, to let go, to turn around and finally forget him.

This post is about me finally letting go.