It’s great he can act like nothing happened between us and we can just talk out the problem. I can’t.
I’ve been talking to him for less than a minute, and my lungs feel tight with emotions from the past.
It’s weird being this close to him without him touching me or kissing me. It’s weird being anywhere near him and having to remind myself that we aren’t together anymore.
Just like last time, I remember how we were when we belonged to each other, and then I remember how we ended.
It’s been six years. I shouldn’t feel like this, but I do. That’s my problem. I should have known better than to allow myself to fall for someone who was forbidden to me.
“Just leave me alone,” I say, shaking my head.
“It’s going to be a little hard to leave you alone when we own a building
together, don’t you think?”
“Try me,” I throw back and walk away.
“Didn’t you miss me?” he calls out, but I keep walking.
I can’t answer that question. My body still betrays me when it comes to him. It tells him yes.
Thank God for my brain. It reminds me how crushed I was when he hurt me, and of the promise I made to myself to never allow anyone to hurt me that way again.
I thought he loved me, but I was wrong.
He wouldn’t know that he left me at the most vulnerable time in my life.
It taught me never to be too trusting.
Sometimes when things are too good to be true, they are.