I guess this is how our story ends.

I saw you today, and my heart didn’t skip a beat.

I saw you from a distance, looking exactly the same when I last saw you. There you were, standing in the middle of a busy walkway, waiting for me. Which seems funny since I was always the one waiting for you.

I walked faster, not because I was excited to see you. I just wanted to get this over with.

You smiled when you saw me. I didn’t. My face was as blank as what I was feeling for a while.

Normally, I wouldn’t be able to hide how happy I was to spend time with you. But today, it felt as if I was meeting an acquaintance I haven’t seen for long time. Everything looked familiar — except I felt disconnected.

You knew something was off. You knew there was space between us so you tried to engage me, as if nothing happened.

As if nothing happened. The very reason we ended up like this. You did me wrong, told me you were sorry — and that’s it. In a fit of anger, I asked you to exert some effort just this once. I waited.

I waited for nothing.

Our meeting was brief — you had to go to work and I had a class. Back then, I’d whine because no matter how much time we spent together, it always seemed too short. I always asked for more, but you had other things to attend to, so I had to wait until next time.

I actually thought I could keep this up. I told you what I needed. I told you what I was afraid of. I was ready to do anything for you, you just had to keep your end of the bargain. You tried, but you couldn’t.

You knew once I cross my limit, there’s no going back. You tried your luck, and here we are.

I’m sorry.

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