"Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty! Free at last!"

Last Saturday wasn't so difficult after all. I thought it would be awkward or I'd be consumed with tempered rage—but it was only awkward for about as long as it takes to hiccup and I was not angry at all.

I had to keep checking myself and it's confirmed. I'm not angry at him anymore. Maybe a little sad for him (and really, I don't know why exactly) but I'm not angry at him anymore. And it feels so liberating! I mean, I had a sneaking suspicion that I wasn't angry anymore—but given my propensity for rage, I didn't want to assume so quickly. Being there in the same place as he for a prolonged period of time was kinda cool for me, because I knew that it really didn't bother me anymore.

Of course, it didn't hurt that my wonderful boyfriend was right beside me the whole time.

But it feels great to not be angry anymore.