I deleted your number.
I moved all the photos of us into a different folder on my phone.
The dried flowers were thrown out with the other garbage.
I tossed the fortunes from the cookie that seemed to be predicting a bright and happy forever for the two of us.
You were so surprising. Tall, dark, exceedingly and excruciatingly handsome. Funny and charming. You were educated in all the right ways. We had engaging, thoughtful debates about the state of the world. When you shared stories of your past I hung on every word. You never failed to surprise me with a clever plot twist.
There was not a big fight. You didn’t fuck someone else and I wasn’t mistreated. I still enjoyed spending time with you.
I just didn’t want to be an us with you. I didn’t want you to be in all my selfies. “Usies”- what a stupid word. I did not want you to be the last first date. I wanted to be alone for a while. I wanted to flirt with that guy I dated in high school. I couldn’t do that when I was with you.
I wanted to travel with someone new. I didn’t fantasize about building a life with you. I guess it’s safe to say I was bored.
You didn’t do anything wrong. Turns out, I just thought I loved you.
I didn’t blame you for being angry. I felt guilty when you called my sister in tears begging her to help you win me back. The guilt didn’t last long though.
Now, I feel pity. I am annoyed at the continued resentment. Why can’t you just put the past away?
Delete my number.
Move the photos to a different folder on your phone. Delete the ones I never should have texted you.
Why can’t you see? I only thought I loved you. It’s not the end of the world. It was fun while it lasted.
Maybe I should feel more remorse. I just can’t help it. Can’t you just be a grownup and move on? It’s time to put it all behind you.
I’m sorry, I just didn’t really love you.