Alone in my apartment, I embrace the silence as I lie on the floor and reminisce. We have so much in common. But it is now over.

Hours pass, and I find comfort remaining on the floor floating in a sea of tranquility. Then the reality of the situation creeps in, and I am overwhelmed with sorrow. Mark is gone, and I am alone.

Just this morning, he prepared an early breakfast for us. It was delicious, and he was playful in his unique, loving way. Our ten years together are now behind us. And I must move on. 

The abrupt and unexpected ending does not taint my love. My sorrow fades, and I accept his choice to leave. I wonder why I am not devastated. Instead, I turn the page and begin a new chapter.

I find solace in my work. It is now 1:30 a.m., and I am in my warehouse preparing for my future. I am holding an old stained book with torn pages I found long ago in Paris on the banks of the Seine. I close my eyes and consider my next move. Mark is no longer in the picture, and I fantasize about my new freedom. He broke our childhood pinky promise to give me a special gift - a new life. 

One day I hope our paths will cross for the third time, and Mark, if you are reading this, know that I still love you.