I loved you. I really did. More than I had ever loved anyone.

What we shared made every relationship before you seem like it was just trips for ice cream. When we stood before that altar and said it would never end for better or worse, we really meant it. Despite all the trials and troubles we went through, we were very convinced we’re meant for each other. I’ve learnt to stop grieving it. I’ve learnt destiny is a joke. I learnt there was nothing written in the stars. Because if I kept believing that, I would never get to appreciate what we shared. So I held on to that. It took me a while to get used to, but every good thing must come to an end. And at this end, I am grateful for all those memories.

After a while they weren’t really that great. After a while you stopped caring how I felt and I stopped fighting for us. After a while my feelings became too much and yours not enough. After a while all we did was band-aids. Going on fun loud dates, hanging out with fun loud people, and acting out a script we’ve acted a long time. We stopped looking each other in the eyes and we stopped being in love.

Now I can’t get you to stop calling me. Not like I want to. You’re comfortable. Even after all these years you’re still easy for me to be with. And my new man, he doesn’t get it, but just like you, he’s patient. I wish he wasn’t. Patience is what made us fail in the first place, because you chose patience in the place of passion. But I’m not sold on a happily ever after, so I don’t care about my tomorrow with him.

You’re on the phone with me now, telling me about work, all your stressful employees and I chuckle. You ask me what’s funny and there’s nothing really. Just the memories. We’ve been here many times before, but you never remember that. Everyday is a new day for you. And tomorrow will be another day without you. But I’m in a great place. And you’re finally at peace with your sexuality. And at the end of the day, isn’t that all we ask of life?