Maybe it's today's weather, the bland cloudy white grayness. I reflected on the past and I don't feel anything, good or bad. It's like when you stop being a kid and outgrow your teddy bear. Whatever I fought for is a dim memory, and was, I guess, the perfect distraction to get me comfortable with growing old single. I'd like to say that I'm fine with me, or that I'm enough. That I give me what someone never could or better, actually. That I feel free of the responsibility of another. That I don't have to compromise, or miss out. With covid19, there's nothing to do, nowhere to go and nobody to interact with, so no FOMO. No drama, no disappointment, no broken promises, no failed expectations, no false hopes, no mind games, no having to try, no negotiating, no explaining, no waiting. The thing I tried so hard to have for so long wasn't rewarding to me. Or joyful. Or fun. It took from me and gave nothing back. It left me empty handed. It broke my heart and left me alone to grieve. I cried for what I could have back then, realizing my feelings never mattered anyway. Funny how I thought about it today. I imagine those thoughts are mine alone, as usual.