Forgiving isn't the issue. It never is, well for me at least. Thinking back to how it ended, how you left, how sudden and hurtful it was doesn't bug me. Not like it maybe should at least. Thinking of you, I still smile at our inside jokes. Still get butterflies when I think of how you used to kiss me softly and slowly. Still can feel your warmth from the hugs that made me feel so secure, so weak; but happy knowing you were there to make me strong again. But this time you weren't. I don't like to think of what you did, how I reacted, and how it ended. I choose to cherish, and you were already forgiven before it even ended. No grudges at all. Thinking of you I hope you can too, and although I still wish I was the one to make inside jokes with, still the one that you kissed so softly, still the one in your warm arms, still the one that didn't have to wish it would have never ended, I'm stable. Thinking of you and how much quicker you moved on with that beautiful girl I'll try to be happy for you, because you'd feel the same way if you were in my spot.