How do you know you've moved on?
Last Saturday night while in the middle of having dinner with some blog friends, I saw a familiar face.
He's cute. No, he's handsome. Emanates a sexiness, that was all too familiar. He's attractive, no doubt, but that was not the reason why I kept glancing back his way. I know that laugh. I know that face.
It took me a good five minutes to finally remember.
The guy I saw was Jason.
Once upon a time he was my obsession. I stalked the guy after something happened between us. After that steamy afternoon in my room. After my grandmother caught us in the middle of doing the dirty deed.
I still remember when his birthday is. That for two years, I anonymously sent him birthday texts, and call his landline just to hang up (I know, I was such a loser back then).
It all came back when I finally remembered who he is.
And all I could think about...
He was one of the two UP graduates who made me cry. Who in a way broke my heart. I thought I'd feel something again after that.
But there's nothing.
I guess that's how you know you've moved on.
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