Take a look at me now.

I saw M today.

I was walking alone in a shopping mall near my workplace when I spotted him walking towards me. It was a face I had expected to see but what I didn't expect was that he felt more like a stranger than like someone I knew once upon a time.

He was holding his girlfriend's hand. When he finally turned and saw me, his expression gave him away. He stared for awhile, as if he was wondering if he should acknowledge me. But he noticed my friendly gait, and his lips twisted into an awkward smile. His body language took a turn; he looked like he was waiting for me to approach him.

I didn't.

As our shoulders brushed softly past each other, I saw he had an almost astonished look on his face, but it was subtle. His girlfriend was none the wiser. It was not that I had nothing to say to him—I just didn't see the need to. After all, in retrospect, he didn't mean anything at all.

I didn't look back. Because right now, I've got something he doesn't: the knowledge that I am better off. My smile turned into a wider one the second we inched away in opposite directions.

Then, I walked into a boutique, and did me some serious shopping.