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When I found out about your new job, my initial reaction was happiness for you. I knew how much you hated serving, and I was glad to hear that since we've last spoke you've moved on with your life and graduated.

I started to think about the type of person I remembered you to be, and the type of relationship we had. You know how people say that if a man loves you, he'll offer you the last of his food? You we're that type of man. Always such a gentleman, opening doors for me wherever we went, no matter how much I objected (I was never that type of girl). You would defend me. You would fight for me. I felt safe and protected in your presence. We had a perfect relationship. Except for that whole "other women" thing. But that was just psychological, so it was okay, right?

Right?

In my heart I forgave you, and I still do. But for a minute I reopened and reread that chapter in my life. I conjured up the illusion that we could be friends again. The more I thought about it, the more I believed that I had enough strength to handle our friendship. I even looked forward to it. But that day I ‘coincidentally’ saw you in the parking lot, my heart dropped. I felt heavy from all the emotions. It was overwhelming and uncomfortable. I wanted nothing more than to run away. Those couple of minutes talking with you, chit chatting about our lives, like nothing and no one had ever come between us, well, God, it felt like a decade. I had to muster up all the energy I had to pretend we ever anything other than lovers.

There’s a reason I closed that chapter in my life three years ago, and I should have kept it closed. I wrote a new one, one where we’re both happy and successful, but one where we never speak again. Although I care about your well-being, I don’t care FOR you anymore. You were my first love. And that's how I'll keep you. In my memories. Good night. Good bye. Forever.