I took you to the airport, helped you get your bags out of the car. I hugged you goodbye, telling you: Be Good. And also: Take Care of Yourself.
I turned around, got into the car, drove away, and didn't look back. And it was one of the hardest fucking things I've ever done in my life -- not holding you longer, not getting one last look at you, not kissing you goodbye. Because this was likely the last time I will ever lay eyes on you. Because the chances are good that I will never see you again.
Holy fucking shit - I May Never See You Again.
My heart is broken by the thought. Part of me wants to, of course, because you meant everything to me. I'd convinced myself that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with only you. But I need to let go, in the same way you have.
I got back to my brother's place, where he got me to sit down to dinner with him and his friends, filling my plate with food, trying to get me to focus on the present, and not the awfulness of these last 24 hours. He didn't say anything, he just reached over and put his hand on my shoulder. And that broke my heart a little more.
There's a Matt Nathanson song I love, called "I Saw" with a line that I've sung countless times but never really understood until today: "And I'll forget about you long enough to forget why I need to." And understanding what it means breaks my heart a little, too.
I've taken down the framed photo of you from my mantle. I've un-Skyped you. I've trashed every e-mail you've sent me since we first met. I've promised myself not to call you, not to text you. When I'm lonely at 2 am on a Saturday night I won't stalk your Facebook page, looking through your photos. I won't lay there, wishing I was there with you. I won't wonder if you wish you were here with me. I won't. I. Won't.
I don't want this for myself. And I don't want it for you, either. I just want to move on.