“so, i guess that’s that.”

“i guess it is.”

“i want you to know that i’m going to think about you. every night.”

“i imagine i’ll think about you too.”

“i’ll probably cry in my pillow when our song comes on my shuffle and i’ll dig up that picture i buried in the back of my closet when i threw away the rest.”

“why will you keep it?”

“because we look happy and somewhere down the road i’ll be happier for having kept it. not at first, because at first it’s going to sting like hell. which is why i’ll bury it. but in the middle of the night when i don’t have the sun to shine in my eyes and distract me, i’ll need to look at it and remind myself that the tears are worth it.”

“i don’t want to make you cry.”

“i know and that’s part of the reason why they’ll be worth it. you aren’t stealing them from me, i’m giving them freely. i won’t be crying because you betrayed me, i’ll be mourning the natural death of our relationship. it had a shorter life span than i had been hoping for, but it would be cruel to keep it on life support.”

“so we can be friends?”

“in time. it’s not your fault, but i’m likely to be mad and bitter for a while and it won’t be fair to put that strain on a friendship when it’s undeserved. i’ll just need the mad to keep me strong and the bitter to help face gossiping eyes. i’ll probably be short with you when you talk to me and snide when you don’t. please, don’t take it personally. understand, it will be more survival than anything.”

“i’ll try. and understand when i have a new girl and i’m holding her tight, it’s not to cut at you, it’s to keep my arms from reaching for you. and when i kiss her when you’re walking by, it will be to keep my breath from forming pleas to catch your trailing feet.”

“i’ll do my best to walk fast. and i want you to know that i’ll likely still love you for a while, but it will be more of an echo than a living thing. love is a habit that’s hard to break. so i’ll pick up my phone two or three times a day to call you before i put it down. i’ll turn on my turn signal to go to your house before i adjust my wheel and go straight instead. that will hurt more than anything, the empty space that i’ll have to fill. the time i used to devote to you will be a harsh reminder every day.”

“i’ll do my best to make it easy then. when i want to send you a picture that i know you’ll appreciate, i’ll stop myself. even when i’m aching to make you laugh. when i see you’re cold, i’ll stop myself from putting my arm around you. i won’t say we’ll do this together because we have to do it alone, but i’ll do my best to pave the road for you. because i might not love you like i did, but i’ll care for you, even when it seems like i don’t.”

“this is going to be hard.”

“i know.”

“having to find my feet again, having to regrow my spine, having to take my heart back from your chest. it was warm there – it’s cold now. so cold.”

“you’ll find a way to warm it back up.”

“yes, i will. and if it means making a fire by burning your pictures, try to understand.”