On the Death of Their Fidelity

As he walks away, his words echo in my head. Goodbye.

Goodbye.

I stand up from the cold park bench and run my hands through my hair. My fingers get lost in the ever-present tangles and I gingerly free my hand from my locks. I sigh and stare for a few moments at his back, slowly disappearing from my view and into the trees.

Deep breath, and I turn the opposite direction as him. He’s made it quite clear, after all, that it isn’t our life anymore. It’s his life and my life.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been alone. A long time, but somehow I just can’t bring myself to regret it, to cry, to get that heart broken feeling that all the songs talk about.

Why is that? I loved him, still do, but I’m not sad, not even a little bit. It wasn’t just a couple of weeks we spent together, not just a few months. It was years.

Years.

For as long as our my friends have known me, it’s been Me & Him, Him & Me. And now suddenly… it’s not. Oh, how suddenly.

“A walk today?”

“Why sure,” I say.

But this is not what I anticipated.

But it’s okay.

I’m okay.

Because, really, if he doesn’t want me anymore isn’t it better that we go our separate ways? That I carry on with my life and he carry on with his. Because they are separate now. He will achieve his dreams, like he always does, and I will attempt in my usual way to achieve mine. But I won’t give up. I never do.

And anyhow, why would I want to be with somebody that doesn’t want me back?

So here I go; to start a new life, an independent one, a different one. Perhaps, even a better one.