It's such a weird thing, talking to you again. As much as I tried to put you out of my mind, it was still you- morning, noon and night. I told myself that I agreed to scold you for the phone call, for showing up at my place, to give you your clothes back. Snapped back, when you said I should keep them. "There will never be another reason for you to have clean clothes at my house." Sitting across that table from you, all I wanted to do was reach out and touch you. Self depreciating as usual. Talk about the weight you've gained since we "broke up" because you're drinking a lot more. Another thing for me to worry about. You looked great though. "You like my haircut? I got it thinking of you." I noticed. It hurt in a good way. I remember breaking the rules, looking at things I wasn't supposed to be looking at, when I saw that you had finally cut it off. I wanted it to be me so badly. Wondered if I crossed your mind with the sound of the scissors, your head one year lighter. I can't stop replaying our meal in my head. The way I froze up when you mentioned her. So briefly, so carefully. Like you knew what it might do to me. I hope you didn't notice, but you know me better than I like to admit. I wanted to tell you that I was so sorry about your grandfather, your parents. Wanted to shove that table aside and hold you to my chest. Kiss your head. Be your safe place. But it was too late, the walls were up. I must have seemed so cold, so cruel. Like I was silently happy that you were in pain. That Christmas card from last year was supposed to make you feel special. A reminder that you don't have to pretend in front of me.
Now it's a reminder of what you gave up.
Ultimately, you chose this. I have to remember that.
"That was after you dropped me from the rotation. Well, I guess I kind of pulled myself out of it..."
The look on your face told me that neither one of us wanted me to be right, but that didn't change the fact that I was.
