I think I’m out of tears.
I think today is going to be different.
I think I’m tired of being unhappy.
Today’s the first day I found someone else attractive since I met you. Today’s the first day I responded to text message who wasn’t you, but made me smile like you used to.
This is how I know it’s ending.
When I used to be yours–nobody could compare. Now it’s morbid and sick and you feel dead in my heart.
Today’s the first day I didn’t check my phone in hopes of you.
This is how I know it’s over.
This morning was the first time I looked at Toronto apartments–and realized I could never be with someone who didn’t want me in the same way.
I think I’m done, and it’s remarkably refreshing.
I’m sad. I’m lonely. I’m hurting. I’m numb.
We spent two weeks infatuated with each other. Do you remember? Unable to put down our phones; to not be touching or apart or without.
You took an Uber from your work to me, just for fifteen minutes and a kiss. I told you I was sad, and found you outside with a car waiting. I couldn’t stand the thought of ending the day with you sad.
We broke up for the first time the end of that week. I told you I was too scared, because I knew I would love you too much.
That was the first weekend we spent without each other.
This is the second.