Standing in the rain today, as I gazed through the silhoutted treetops to the moonless, starless sky, I felt alive. More alive than I had felt over the last few days, or maybe, they were weeks. The days had brought with them lots of fights with the inner self, lots of conflicts, and somehow, trying to shield my self from itself, trying to be “proffesional”, I had become something that even I ridiculed. I smiled, walked, talked all the same, but deep inside somewhere the naturality of it all had been replaced by a mechanicality, a superficial something that made me so fake that even I thought thrice before believing what I was feeling were indeed my feelings, and not some pretence that I had put up even to myself. But as the raindrops trickled down my body today, I somehow knew this had to change. Ranting and repenting on decisions made is very easy. Going back on them is even easier. But sticking to his words is what makes a real man. When I shut the door on you, I knew I could never ever open it again, so I choose now today to stop crying over the precious treasure that I locked out. I choose now to stop crying over your memories, and let them be what they are: beautiful moments, nothing more, no less. I would rather have you as a beautiful past than as a depressing present. Yes, sweetheart, you think right. I am moving on, and you are a now part of what no one can change: the past. Loved you, baby.