She thought surely she was over him by now. It had been almost a year. She didn’t cry when his face flashed through her memory. She didn’t flinch when she heard his name. She could go days without him crossing her mind and when he did the memories were usually harmless. In the beginning she had cried all the time. She thought her broken heart would actually start bleeding its pain. His broken promises had nearly destroyed her. She deleted all the pictures on her phone and computer, threw away all the letters and notes he had written her, destroyed any evidence he had ever been in her life. Still she cried herself to sleep at night and barely managed to get through the day until she could crawl back in her bed and hide under the covers to repeat the cycle. But she had made it through the darkness and found her way back to the light. Slowly, ever so slowly she had begun to heal and she remembered how to live again, this time without him. Surely she was over him by now. And then there he was, at the same coffee shop, the one close to her new apartment, the one where he didn’t belong. She saw his face and the memories and feelings and emotions came flooding back and threatened to drown her as she stood there in the middle of the shop. She wasn’t over him. Not by a long shot.