We bought those tickets together. We were sitting at that table there, just across from where I sit as I type this. Now three business men inhabit the same place you and I sat an unbelievable 3 and a half months ago.
I doubt you even remember. You seem to not remember much from those two months.
But regardless, together we sat. Was it that same night I returned from a weekend trip south? Was it before we shared a moment on a patio, a moment you would later confess to feeling nothing from. What a night…
You ordered them. You bought three, two for you and I and one extra. You said your mum might want to come. I still had not met her. And I never did.
You joked about what would happen if we were no longer together. You laughed and said your mum could sit between us. Even then, did you see the end I had no sight of?
You joked a lot. And with the pressure and seriousness you put on relationships, I am surprised as I look back on it all.
Maybe you saw it all along. Maybe you were so back and forth because you knew it was not going to last and you could not decide if you wanted to have some fun or if you would rather end it early and not hurt me anymore.
Hurt. Well, I am doing just fine now.
I’m still going to see him speak tonight. You will be there with two others. I will be there with my two best friends. Maybe I will see you. Maybe I will not. Maybe you will actually acknowledge my existence. But that’s wishful thinking.
You were only in my life for two months. A quick flash of time really. But I feel like the time I had with you, the things I learned because of you during and after our time together, and even now, will continue to echo through my life.
I hope you enjoy tonight as much as I am going to enjoy it. I hope you are well. I look forward to the day we can catch up and be friends.
