And I love the sound of you walking away.

I don’t know how to say “thank you” for breaking my heart and actually mean it, because to say that you broke my heart would imply that you have some power over me still.  And that I still had a heart for you to break.  That is simply untrue.

I have no illusions about you anymore.  You are a child in a man’s body.  You do man things like mow the lawn, change your oil, and use your penis but you still have to tell me that you don’t love me anymore over the phone.  And that is okay.  Because you are someone else’s problem now.

Now I am my own problem too.  I have to put myself to bed when I've had too much to drink and cook enough food for just myself and find a new way to wash the middle of my back since I shower alone.  But it’s doable. 

When I sit at the coffee shop now, I can go back to imagining my pretend life with other men.  I can think about the fancy parties that adults go to, and the problem of choosing the right wine to go with the cedar smoked salmon, and who’s car we will take for our weekend trip to The City.  These are the problems I want to have.  Instead I think about how I will bury a friend.

I am taking an online class on Computer Science offered by a school I never thought I would attend.  It has made me think about life in ones and zeros.  Either it exists, or it doesn't exist.  Either I remember you or I don’t.  I choose to remember you or I don’t.  But as soon as I remember that I chose to forget you, I remember you.  And the solid line between ones and zeros fades away. My heart breaks just a little more.