“You don’t stop loving someone just because it’s over.” - Thomas Day

“…how do I say this?

I’m growing, getting older.

I’m falling into habits.

They’re all good.

But there’s this one.

Just this one—

Bothers me from time to time.”

If he was here— with me— he’d laugh, pull away. He’d swoop that pretty hair out of his face and look away with chocolate eyes.

“Just listen.”

I’d say;

“There’s something…

Something I have to tell you.”

I can’t look at him. I can’t promise him anything. And those eyes, that tinge of sadness within. I swallow this lump in my throat. And I close my eyes. I know it hurts, but I have to imagine this conversation.

“This isn’t the right time.

But I couldn’t just text you.

And I have to confess.

Listen, you know I got you.

You’re mine always.

Even if you’re not mine.

Or you’re not with me.

Please, listen.”

He was always so difficult. He’ll shrug it off. Look away. Lashes dampened. He’s scared, heart pumping... but mine’s dead and gone. I gave it to him and I won’t ever want it back.

“There’s someone.”

He values transparency. Yet his head pops up. And his eyes, those sad eyes, look into mine. I know they’re searching. Darting. Trying to find a work-around.

“I met him the first of August.

Or either late July.

But I need you to understand something.

I can’t — you know— love him.

I don’t think.”

Tears pool and run onto the satin pillows. I sit up in the dark and rub my face. I cross my legs and drop my wrists to my thighs.

“And

it’s not that I’ll forget you.

Trust me, love.

That’ll never happen.

I don’t want you to be sad.

I want you to be here,

Stay my friend.

It’s possible.

We can hurt together.

Look at me.

Hey, look at me.”

You’ll be mad, sad— but knowing you, you’ll be relieved. You’ll realize that I’m trying to stop clinging. I know you wouldn’t say it, but you wanted me to let go. You cared too much to hurt me. And I get that.

“Don’t get this wrong.

I’m not leaving.

I’m not forgetting.

I just want you to know;

When he brought those flowers…

Sixteenth of August…”

I swallow. Eyes wet, my heart torn. I need a way— a way out and away. Something to keep me alive, catch me when I’m drowning.

“I didn’t know it was happening.

And I’ll tell you all about it later.

If you want.

But for now,

Let’s be in the moment.

Let’s act like I didn’t tell you.

And pretend I’m not pretending.

It’s confusing, I bet.

Just look at me.

Me as me for once.”

The next bit I can’t say aloud. Not even in my thoughts. So I’ll write it here: he brought flowers, big smile and met my Grandma. Shook her hand. And opened his truck door for me. All the while, I watched his hands on the wheel, long legs folded. And I felt my heart tighten.

Because it’s not you.