I was thriving.
At least, I fervently believed that I was.
In the two months that followed, I felt better, happier than I had been since the separation.
I threw myself into my academics, though second-year medicine and surgery was tough, it was tolerable because nothing was weighing me down anymore.
Though sometimes, when I would be idle, memories would creep in, I always managed to suppress them before they could get the better of me.
To my annoyance, I still could not bring myself to delete any of our pictures and videos together or even block his contact from his many attempts to reach me.
Every time I tried, it was as if there was some invisible force holding me back from doing what I knew needed to be done.
I could not.
So, I resorted to archiving his chat so I wouldn't feel tempted to send a reply and be drawn back into the web of emotional torment and turmoil.
