It’s been a month since we stopped talking.

Of course, it’s only been six weeks since we met.

Yesterday, I hardly thought about you at all.

I don’t know if I am alarmed or reassured that even a magical connection that is severed eventually fades. Yet, there is something about you that I will remember fondly. Forever.

It helps that there is someone new in my life. And I like her. A lot.

She, too, is broken. Like me. Like you.

She is guarded, protective, and that makes her mysterious.

That is her word for me. Mysterious. Mr. Mysterious. And I can tell she is fascinated by me. Yet, I don’t know if it is the mystery she’s fascinated by? Or the charm? Or the magnificent penis?

Yet, it doesn’t really matter. I am fascinated too. I like her. A lot.

And I am guarded, protective, and it’s making me mysterious.

I know my reasons for raising my shields.

I know that she, too, will leave. Probably on a high note. Like you did. And the agony will return. And again, I’ll be plunged into loneliness… and I’ll have to decide—return to the tranquility of solitude? Or the turbulent, yet beautiful, waters of another voyage with another woman?

For now, I’ll take the chance. I like her. A lot.