We're not the same, dear, as we used to be. The seasons have changed and so have we. There was little we could say, and even less that we could do, to stop the ice from getting thinner under me and you. We bury our love in the wintry grave. Along came the snow, was all that remained. But we stayed by its side, as the days turned to weeks. And the ice kept getting thinner with every word that we'd speak. And when spring arrived, we were taken by surprise when the flows under our feet bled into the sea. Nothing was left for you and me.


Oh, Ben Gibbard. You genius. 


There is no doubt in my mind that I still love you. God knows why, but I do. And for awhile, there will be no one else that can match how you make me feel.

Despite that, I am just standing still while everything around me is moving forward. Afraid to move, hoping you'd come back. In some shape or form. I wouldn't want to miss that. But I can't wait around for that. I can't expect that. So, I won't.

I'm going to move. Not move on. Just... move.

Who knows? Maybe in a few years, when I'm finally happy with myself, I'll look back and think nothing but fondly of you. Till then.