I told myself I won’t regret looking his way. I was wrong. Every time I recall his name, his voice, his face and all the things that happened, I have the urge to cry. Not because I miss him. But because I regret letting him have the opportunity to break my heart. We all deserve to be truly loved. I let myself be fooled for the first time thinking that it was real. Now I’m cautious—-Probably more cautious than I’ve ever been.