I wish we still talked.
We broke up with a final statement of, "So is that it? Are we done?"
Astonished, I walked away crying, sat in the grass in silence, and heard a whisper: "Please say something."
All I could say was, "You're breaking my heart in a million pieces. I don't know what you want me to say. There is nothing to say."
You asked me what I was thinking and what I wanted. In response I told you it didn't much matter what I wanted because you didn't want me. Then it was over. We went back to your room and played a card game and slept in the same bed, never once touching. I know we didn't touch because I didn't sleep that whole night. I kept waiting for you to move closer, for you to gently brush against me, but you never did. All I wanted was to lay my head on your chest and listen to your heart beat one last time, but I couldn't.
There's more to tell but it doesn't really matter. You're gone and I've moved on. We both have our new significant others and are content in our lives. I couldn't be happier for you or for myself. It took nearly two and a half years for me to get over you, but I have.
You are now, and always were, a wonderful person. I'm glad that I was able to spend so much time with you and share a part of your life. I really have nothing bad to say about you with one exception: Please work on your breaking-up skills.


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