Most days it does not bother me because most days I know, somewhere in me, that each day that goes by is a step closer to finding someone I can call up and meet in a park and eat ice cream with and then maybe kiss.

Each day gets me a step closer to it.

So each day is pretty much okay. I have an amazing life, some of the most wonderful friends, women who are incredible beyond belief calling me their best friend, my job is good, my education's progressing.

But then there are sneaky things. Like stepping out of the apartment today the weather was so perfect and it just hit me. It bashed me between the shoulder blades that I wanted to call you and say hey lets go fly a kite.

And that eased, that want, it eased up.

But then, like a dumb ass, I looked up her facebook page. And she had changed her profile pic to a picture of Grover dressed up. Grover.

For those of you have been long time readers you know that Grover means the world to me. To the point I have a Grover tattoo. So seeing that made me hope, made me so damn hopeful that maybe it was kind of a nod in my direction, that maybe some kind of connection still stuck between us and she thought of me to and that seeing Grover dressed up reminded her of me and made her smile and maybe, just god damn maybe, a little bit happy.

And I can't afford to think like that.

I sent her a message a while back. I got tired of thinking that if I were to die today or tomorrow my biggest regret would be her not knowing how much she meant to me. So I sent her a message. Told her it was pretty much all selfish, but I wanted to know that she knew how much the time we had together meant to me, and how much it still shapes my life.

I didn't tell her, of course, that in a lot of ways I never fell out of love with her. I didn't tell her, of course, that no one ever left me trembling the way she did. I didn't tell her, of course, how when I'm really punishing myself I think of the last night I saw her and how the snow was coming down and she came outside and hugged me, so, so tightly, hugged me and started crying into my neck, quiet wet tears and how she said she missed me so much and all I could do was hug her.

I didn't tell her that.

I don't tell anyone that.

Instead I go to dinner with my friends and make eye contact with pretty girls and I make them laugh. And then I come home.

And most days are good. Most days are okay.