It’s been months since you walked away, but I still haven’t cried about you. Whenever you come into mind, I can still feel my heart turning warm and blushing. For once, it’s nice of me — mature, maybe, to not resent you. I only miss you and think of you fondly. I think it’s because I’m already a different person now. I often wonder to myself if my last heartbreak forced me to change into someone else before I met you, or if with each new encounter,...