I was driving home from work late in the day. The sun was low in the sky, shining through the tress, making a heartbreakingly beautiful scene in front of my apartment building. I was smiling for no reason at all and singing along to the radio quite loudly. As I was turning left onto my street, I suddenly thought, ‘I’m fucking magic and he turned that down.’

Yes, it’s been six weeks since my heart was smashed into a thousand pieces. I’m not completely over it. I wish I was. It’s getting better everyday. I’ve finally given up the fool notion that I can win him back. Yes, even after the lying and cheating, I still thought I could win him back. I thought he was magic too, but I was wrong. He’s not magic. He’s normal.

See, earlier that day I had made the mistake of reading his site. I immediately realized I can’t do that yet. I can’t see his words. I can’t see him lavish wordy affection on a girl that isn’t me’much less the girl he lied to me about, the girl he got rid of me for. Seeing those words sent a pain so fierce and immediate right to my heart. It made me doubt myself. Those words made me want to crawl in a hole and cry’they made me think that I wasn’t special and nobody would ever think I was, that I wasn’t built for love and other nonsensical evil types of things.

But as quickly and sharply as the pain came, it left.

I sure as hell hope he made the right decision’that’s what I was thinking that night as I smiled in the sunlight that filtered through the trees. I sure hope he chose the right one, because he gave up someone who’s magical for her.

And then I locked the door to the truck that I pay for all by myself, and walked towards the apartment that I rent by myself, and fixed dinner with groceries I bought.

Then I sat down and looked at the dried roses hanging off the wall. They were from him. I sat down and thought, I hope she’s worth it. Because I am, I know I am and he threw it all away. He threw away magic. And I felt sorry for him, because I could have given him all this and more. I could have given him laughter and intelligence and creativity and so much more.

But he threw it away.

Maybe he didn’t realize how extraordinary I am. Other men, see it. Maybe he had grown too accustomed to the magic in his life and in his eyes it lost some of its shine.

And for the first time in a long time, I was sad for him and not for me.