I wrapped your t-shirt so neatly, like it were a thing of any delicacy not something in which on countless nights I slept in.
I fold the odd sock you misplaced and the second t-shirt that merely sat among both other items in the bottom of a basket until I discovered them again finally unearthing the depth of my own possession.
I’m with another now. Not one who will ever share a t-shirt or even lend a jacket in the cold, quite the opposite. But for now I accept what were and what in a lighthearted entanglement uncertain of any longevity, beyond an evening or two, is.
And so I fold your things and say my final goodbye to them, the toothbrush long gone along with your scent on the clothes I long since washed as you faded like the jeans that are sharing a lack of presence in my life.
I write you my last words, carefully poured over and re-written. The originals the best, re-scripted to consider my hand once more, to consider for a moment my ever aching heart, deep down I still miss you. I hope you understand I did what was best for us both…some day you will, when you decide.
Now I seal the box, words inside and await my wandering to the post office, no idle stamps being placed upon the space between the paper and the last things to remind me. I did not keep the letters I wrote you, I threw them out with the memories you tainted. I moved on, transient as you may believe, but in my mind I held onto those looks from all that time ago, more than a year past since our stolen time. I held onto the feel of your hand on my cheek and the spark lit by the magnetic skies that drew us together because I simply could not hold them in, like a breathe I had to exhale, so too did I have to breathe out to breathe you in.
Goodbye my almost lover, Goodbye my almost friend.
So long, a hopeless romance.
To know that love will never end.