Why when you’re hanging out with someone else, there seems to be more genuine laughter tumbling out of you. Why when I gush about what I love and hate, you cut me off to change the topic. Thus I don’t understand why when I enthusiastically share a new interest in something, you meet it with disinterest. Perhaps I was also insensitive towards you, but I’ve always counted on the fact you loved me, truly loved me, to never be intentionally callous. The excitement we both shared when hanging out became replaced by an ominous sense of resentment – of what I still do not know. The text replies came less and the seenzone-ing came more. It has felt that way the last years recently. I know it sounds selfish but it seems like you stopped trying. There was mutual trust, respect, and authenticity. Once upon a time we were a safe space where it mattered zero if we were farting, if we were experimenting with crazy hairdos, if we were naked, if you were changing your perspective of the world, or if I was obsessing with a new hobby. Lately our relationship has felt like walking on eggshells. We have known each other well for a number of years that I trust you understand why I’m writing this. The plane tickets without your name? This is the fall-out I never had the will to fight. Is it the crease between your lips? Where there lingers nothing but apology “This is your fault”? What separates self-love from What are farewells but another way of saying Drew Wilson This is the goodbye I never had the courage to tell you.
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