When you said you were leaving, all that followed was silence. I didn’t say a word. I just pulled at the corners of my mouth and I smiled, a little sad, a little worn out, but I smiled anyways.
When I finally opened my mouth to say something, all I said was, “I wish you all the happiness in the world.“
We exchanged quick glances across the table and for the first time, in a long time, your eyes gave it all away.
It wasn’t what you expected. You expected blood and angry doors, and something you could remember it by. But I gave you nothing.
There was no blood. No loud voices. No angry doors. Nothing to remember it by.
I didn’t ask you to stay and I didn’t try to make you feel guilty for realizing that you did not love me as much as you thought you did.
All I gave you was, a half warm smile and my best wishes and with that, I sent you off.
You don’t understand, that wasn’t the first time. Many others before you have done the leaving and by now, I have practiced it in the mirror. I have practiced saying my goodbyes until I could say them without running out of breath. I have mastered the art of loving and letting go.
I am sorry for not giving you an ending worth remembering.
I let you hand me back what was mine and I stretched out my hands to hold it, I wasn’t scared. I took back what has always been mine.
Never for a second should you be a fool enough to let yourself think that my love was yours. It is mine. It always has been. For you, it was something borrowed. Thank you for returning it.