It sadly could be our last. But I could live
with that. This would be preferable to not
even bothering. Sure the unwillingness is
not only astonishing, but something incred
ibly tough to get over. A tragedy. A heart
break. Something, yet, with which I have
no option but to deal. To move forward. At
least it is closure. This mysterious subject has
to end, right? Who cares about this matter? Me.
That’s pretty much it. Surely not the other party.
Party. Which we did so much of, in the inebriated
sense. In just the celebratory sense. So much was
shared. And sure, it’s been years. But to say that I
would have never dreamed it would go on like this . . . .
