I feel sorry for him, I really do. Because if you think about it, I was the best thing that ever happened to him. Actually, no. I pity him because I get to walk away and be me, and he has to walk away and stay him, you know? And who wants to be him when you could be me? I mean, I'm smart, I'm funny... I was this, this thing, you know I was it. I was this magic moment. I was the abracadabra. I was totally the "poof" in the relationship. I mean, I've got more "poof" in one finger than he could ever have. I mean, geez, sometimes I "poof" just hailing a cab. So I guess it's better to know now. So I can go "poof" someone else. Someone who deserves me, and not some screwed-up, insecure guy who can't deal with a woman who's got her act together. Now, I'm gonna end up deliriously happy and he is gonna die old and alone, and I pity him. Really, I pity him.