You told me to go home and go straight to sleep, that it would be good for me, but I'm finding the house too crowded, my thoughts too crowded, and all I can do is sit here and numb my feelings out.

I remember our first date, that night when you picked me up at midnight and we took an hour's drive to the seaside where you pointed out the Belt of Orion, saying the middle star was your favourite star, saying it gave you hope, that there was always a way. Tonight I look up and see the three stars in a perfect line, but they give me no hope, and they do not show me a way out of this. Star crossed is the only word that comes to mind.

It was never meant to be. An unintentional meeting which somehow led to daily texting, the first date, the second date the very next day, and then almost daily meetings, but in the end good things were never meant to last. Now I'm sitting here, missing you with your perfume still on my cheeks, blaming myself for agreeing to meet you in the first place, and finally delivering the fatal blow, to you, to me, to us.

Time will heal, yes, but how long will it take? And how much time will I need to come up with an answer? It is not very likely that I will change my mind in a month to want to settle down and have kids, given how dysfunctional my family is, and thus being reflected in my choice. I already know what my choice will be, if nothing changes, but I just need some time to confirm, for myself not to be blinded by attachment, for you to wash out of my system, for heartbreak to be replaced by indifference, to let my rational mind take over again.

My dear, thank you for making me the happiest I've been in a very long time, for not treating me the way other guys have treated me, for taking care of me and being so understanding. I'm sorry for causing those tears we shed today and may still shed, for all the time and effort you spent. Most of all, I'm sorry for meeting you.

I honestly saw a glimmer of hope for us.

It broke my heart when out of habit, you signalled me to text you when I got home, but stopped abruptly when you remembered.

I miss you. I already do.