Sketched

Everything's different now.

The desk is gone. The chair's moved out. The last of her clothes have been handed back to her. Long ago, the empty apartment, the empty passenger seat, the empty rooms, and the empty driveway. Stuffed animals, movie theater stubs, DVDs, recipes, rings and things.

It's strange. A part of me always felt like she was just on vacation. Like she was coming back. Like this was all just some alternative universe I was stuck in, still in queue to go back home.

But we're on our way now, both of us on the road to just becoming people we used to know.

I don't know how long we've been broken up for - I haven't exactly been counting. Some days it feels like it was last night. Others, like it was merely years ago.



It was amicable. No anger. No one cheated, or accused the other of lying. There was no alcohol, drugs or violence as the culprit. Just a sober, sad, painful, and honest conversation out of love and respect. Weird part is, I initiated it. I knew it had to be done. On so many levels she was too good for me, and deep down, I knew I was wasting her time. She needs someone simpler, less complicated.

To this day we're still friends. On good terms. We smile. Hug. Help each other out. Go to lunch. Wish each other luck. We both agree it was the best choice, regardless of how painful it was when it happened. I'll always love her. Perhaps not on a romantic level, but always as the person who kept me sane and grounded when so much of my life was chaos. Regardless of how we ended, I'll eternally respect her for putting up with me for as long as she did; which was, admittedly, far longer than she needed to.

So today's out-of-the-blue text from her brought about removing the last materialistic piece of her from my life.

It was good to see her again.

Good to know we made the right choice.

And everything is still so different now.

-HKR