I looked in and there was a couple sitting in the window.
I don't know why but it made me smile.
I thought about the times we'd order pulled pork and extra macaroni salad.
But we'd just get one order and split it.
The same way we always split food cart and chimichangas at Santeria.
We were always sharing things.
It was like we never stopped being lovers, even though we'd long since stopped having sex.
I smiled as I kept walking and then it hit me.
How infrequently I think about you anymore.
And I suddenly felt guilty.
Because I'm okay.
I thought I should still be sad and still be thinking of you all the time.
But I don't anymore.
And I realized you must be okay too because if I rarely think of you, you most assuredly never do.
I thought about how there are only a handful of days left in this year and then it will be over.
And that this is the first year in four years we spent more of it apart then together.
A part of me knows it's what we needed a long time ago but it's funny.
Even though we eventually were both accepting of the romance being over, we never could separate ourselves from each other.
It took us a lot longer to be ready for that, for the reality of our breakup:
A life without the other.
My friend asked me a couple weeks ago how long I thought this was gonna last, this rift between us.
And without hesitation I responded, Oh, it's over.
It was the first time I'd said anything like that out loud, the acceptance that you would never be a part of my life again.
Part of me knows it's fitting.
I know you always blamed me, partially, for the girl who ended things with you last year (or was it the year before)?
She thought the closeness we shared was "fucked up."
I was scared it was going to be some other woman that was going to be the cause of our great divide.
I asked you once, What if you dated a girl who didn't want you to be friends with me anymore?
And you calmly responded, That would never happen. Because I would never want to be with a girl who would say that.
Life has this way of having all the drama of a movie.
Art really does imitate life.
And sometimes that's really incredible.
I remember the night we went to Barlow and you saw my show.
And you left that night and texted me, I hope things work out for you.
And it was the first time I felt we were both happy for each other, that we loved other people.
It was later that month you told me we couldn't see each other anymore.
I still feel like the timing of that was horribly unfair.
I let myself turn the heat on even though I know next months bill is going to be expensive.
I even remembered to shut the doors to the other rooms like you always said to.
The room really does heat up so much faster.
And I finally got a WiiU and Mariokart.
It must sound ridiculous but I can't believe I'm never going to get to play it with you.
I can't believe a lot of things anymore.
But I guess that's just part of life.
I watched Crazy Stupid Love tonight and I remembered the first time I saw it was because you downloaded it for me because I wanted to watch it with you.
You used to do sweet things for me all the time and I never understood that was your way of showing me how important I was to you.
I was too busy wondering why you never told me I was beautiful.
I watched you distance yourself from every breakup and I know there will never come a day you reach out just to say hi.
And it's okay because I guess we don't need each other anymore.
And it makes me sad but I think it's just what had to happen.
For us both.
I'm sorry we are so different because it made it so hard for us to understand each other.
But on our best days I think it's what made our bond so special.
No one else really understood it.
But we knew we meant the world to each other.
We did once.
And I hope when you walked by the tree in pioneer square this year you thought of me.
I hope it makes you think of me every year.
And I hope years from now, when your hair is grey and there are wrinkles around your eyes, we see each other again.
I hope after all that time your mouth still twitches when you look at me, as you resist the urge to smile.
And I will walk over to you and wrap my arms around you without saying a word.
And then we'll look at each other and you'll purse your lips together and frown in that playful way you always did when our faces were close together.
And I'll look at you and say, See. I told you that you were gonna be a really handsome old man.
And the smile you'll pretend you're not feeling will find its way across your lips, and you'll simply say, You're weird.
As you always did, when what you really meant was, I love you.
No comments:
Post a Comment