Another season of Lent begins. And giving something up gets more and more difficult each year, as if the passing of age makes all of my vices increasingly necessary to cope with life.

I won't bore you by listing the various little things I will be doing attempting to do for the next forty days and nights. But I guess the main thing that I really ought to give up is a person. I've been waiting for a sign, the right moment, or something to, well, just kiss him, just so that I can get him out of my system once and for all, to prove to myself that there is nothing more there then just good conversation. But, but, if there isn't, then, two things: (i) yay! and, (ii) honestly, how much worse can it get for me given that I can't get him out of my head?

To be perfectly honest, if I were someone else, and I had to give advice to that someone else, it would have been: move on, get him out of your life, give him the chance to miss you and you'll find out whether he really does feel that way, and if he doesn't, you'll have been spending your time constructively meeting other people.

It's just not that easy when you've foolishly let your guard down, and your heart do whatever it wanted.

But, and I do have this to say to you, foolish little heart: Surely the fact that the moment hasn't come is in itself a sign?