Our lives don't fit. They cant, that's the simple truth. I wanted, so badly to fight for us, but I'm exhausted. You're moving away again, leaving the country. And so am I, a different country. I just wish we could have just admitted it; we would have fallen in love given half the chance.

So, best wishes all around, of course. And we'll exchange pleasantries and move on. I'll carry on making stupid mistakes, refusing to be vulnerable, and you'll probably fall in love. She'll be wonderful. She'll be perfect. She'll fit. I'll look back and wonder if you remember me. In years to come I might think about what could have been, then put it to the back of my mind. Hey, its the past. Move on. So thank you, and goodbye. All the best.

I wonder which memory of you will stay with me, there are so few.