He LOOKED me in the eyes. And TEXT me.

“I love you”

I read his text. Turned my eyes directly back to his. Shook my head in amazement of the game he was playing.

And didn’t respond.

He knew I loved him. Without even having to ask.

He text, “I’m glad I came to see you”

I responded: “Stop.”

“I will always be happy to see you, but you will always leave.”

And. Then. I. Continued. To. Beg. Him.

And I think he knew I would never actually mean that I want things to be over.

Not now. Not ever. He knew it. And I knew it.

I guess every day I draw closer to believing that maybe someday, I really will be able to walk away.

And I feel like that is hope.

For me. For my one and only life. For my story.

I will. Someday. Be over this. This chapter of my life. This pain. This adventure. You.

And I will miss you entirely! And I know you’ll miss me too. Without even having to ask.

And I’ll remember you fondly. With a smile. And I’ll probably introduce you…

What do I call you? Who are you to me? Who were you? Who were we to each other?

A colleague? An aquantance? A lover? A best friend? A soul mate?

Who are you to me? Who am I to you? And what are we doing?

That’s all I’ve ever asked for. Is an answer to that question. And you won’t tell me.

And I just. Keep. Begging.

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