July starts

It's July. Almost a year since my breakup. It was about a week before the French National Day. I still remember what I did. No. I don't regret.
He's the reason that bring me here. Don't get me wrong. I'm writing about him because he's the important reason, not that he is occupying my mind. No. I'm getting closer and closer to my own life.
Say I'm feeling good. Should I touch wood?
I have been thinking a lot a lot about him, asking myself millions of questions, trying to figure out as much as I can. I'm on the right path. So many questions have been answered though I didn't speak them out loud to ask anyone. I just dig deep deep down into the past, observing around in present, and figure it out. Little by little. Like playing with the picture puzzle game. I don't let go any little piece in the chain of human life cycle, just to put everything in place, to make things clearer and clearer. I'm making it.
The full story is appearing. His real person is appearing. I'm getting there. Almost there. So close to release.