aka you win this breakup.
2012-03-08 | 6:29 p.m.

i was running late. i was running late because i had a surprise dinner with sarah, my friend who never stops talking. i finally got to the taco bell right at five o'clock, right on time, which is late to me--something i know you know about me, and i wondered if you'd thought i had forgotten.

your car was in the parking lot, i noticed it as i pulled up, but when i got out i walked straight to the door instead. you followed me in.

i told you i wasn't hungry, that my day had been hectic, what am i doing with my life? to which you responded with laughter and ordering a drink.

when i asked where we should sit, you said, "oh, right here's fine," and when i lingered you added, "you want the tall table, don't you?" and guess where we sat?

you've got a job lined up. you're working twenty-six hour weeks at kroger (twenty-six more than you ever really worked when we were together). you're a part of VITA and of PEAK and the president of the racquetball club. you're busy, you're good in your classes, you've got some direction.

i'm jealous a bit, but i just smile. i'm happy for you, i am, even though i'm losing this battle.

it was nice to talk to you. you look good. better. you laugh a lot and seem so much more at ease without me in your life, which is a good thing. you finally got that UK tattoo on your calf and when i demanded you show it to me, you laughed and laughed until you relented.

when we left, i asked for a hug and you held me tight.

you win.

you win.

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