Today is the two-year anniversary of our breakup. I still think about you sometimes. Do you think about me? I keep coming across old pictures of us together, and they make me nostalgic.
Honestly, I only ever meant for us to be a fling. I knew we were doomed from the start. Then there was that affair I had in Paris with those Royale Anis cigarettes. What can I say? They were adorable and very, very French.
Still, you saw me through some tough times. And even though it didn’t work out, I’ll always love you.
So let’s just be mature about this. When I inevitably see you out with someone else, I can’t promise it won’t hurt, but I do promise to be civil. I’ll nod and smile a little and walk on by. Sure, I’ll probably think about you for a bit, but I’ll pull myself together and go on without you.
P.S. We are NEVER, EVER, EVER getting back together.
March 27, 2014 at 2:08 pm
If only we could have the glamour and passion and the pathos without all the costs and consequences.
March 27, 2014 at 8:45 pm
Costs, consequences, and a persistent cough. The new title to my autobiography.
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