It’s never over, but this time it really is.

As I’m writing this, I’m listening to our favourite artist. He brought us together. I remember the first time we went vinyl shopping together for your record player. You went straight to Jeff Buckley. You picked up Grace and put it back down after smiling and shaking your head at the price. I saw how much you wanted that vinyl and I made it my mission to buy it for you. I didn’t let you know about my plans, because I wanted it to be a surprise. You said to me, “I’ll come back when I have the money.” And I nodded my head and said, “I’m sure you’ll afford it soon.” And you gave me a hug, kissing me on the forehead.

On the car ride home you stopped by a gas station and told me to wait in the car. You came back out with a bouquet of flowers. They cost the same as the vinyl. I cried a little and you wiped away my tears with your thumb. Telling me you’d rather spend your money showing me the love you have for me than on a vinyl. That’s when I knew I had to get it for you. So for a few weeks I set aside 10$ after each pay check so I could go back and get it for you.

After 7 weeks of saving, I went back to the vinyl store and picked up the album you wanted. I planned to surprise you with it the next week. But, we had an argument that we couldn’t come back from. I slammed your car door, I sobbed on the stairs outside my front door, and you drove off, ignoring me sitting on stairs with those hideous black streaks of mascara dripping down my face. I called you and called you. Over and over. But you didn’t pick up. I finally sent you a long paragraph, trying to fix things, but you resented it and replied with pure spite and aggression. I knew it was over. I asked the question. “So is this it?” And you replied with “yes.”

At this point I was laying on my bed drowning in my sorrow. I was listening to the record I got you. Jeff Buckley was comforting me. And I know he was comforting you too. Because you messaged me again. “yknow what this reminds me of. Forget her. Which I’m currently listening to.” Which was funny, because that was the song I had reached by the time you messaged me. The long song in the album. Once the song ended, I knew what we had was done for good. The album was over and so were we. I never got to give you the vinyl. And now I’m left with a constant reminder of you.

And you wouldn’t be able to tell me to just, “get rid of it.” Because he’s the last thing I have of you. Even though I moved on, I want to remember that I once loved someone so much, that even during my struggle with my finances, I saved for weeks to get you something I knew you wanted. And to me, that was true love.

I think about messaging you every day. But you have a new girlfriend now and I’m also seeing someone new. And even writing this I don’t know if I’ll send it. I just wanted to remind you that even the small things like a love for an artist can be so memorable. It’s been a year since we broke up. And I haven’t heard your voice for 3 months. I’ve forgotten what you sound like.

“You’ll be okay” was the last message you ever sent to me. I didn’t reply. I hearted the message and cried to myself whilst smiling. Because I knew I would be.

I don’t love you anymore. But I’ll forever cherish what we had. I hope you’re succeeding in life. Goodbye.