We were waiting for the guard to give us the parking ticket. I stared at the white Pajero in front of us, and opened the door. “I’ve got to do this now.” I jumped out without hearing what Bryan, Erik or Jonah had to say.
I knocked on the door, and he let me in. And so the ‘ex-talk,’ 4 years in the making, began.
Am I stunned? I suppose I am. I got to say “I love you,” to you again. But this time, I said it as a good bye… again… for real.
The last time I told you “I love you,” I walked out the door. Did I come into your life as you courted her? Of course not. I know I’d only cause more drama for you and her.
The next time I told you, “I love you,” was a few hours ago. A day before your wedding. Today is a strange day. Once upon a time, a few years ago, on this very night, we were talking on the phone. We were together for seven years. Now, you’re getting married.
You said, “Thank you for cheering me up, being there for me, and loving me, for all those eight years.”
I hugged you, my face buried into your neck. “It feels so good to hug you again. You smell the same.”
“Hey. You know I love you, right?”
We break away. “Congratulations,” I say. “And good luck.”
I open the car door. He smiles at me, I smile at him. This was the same car we took to our adventures, all those years ago, in all our years together. It witnessed a lot of us, that car.
I had one foot out of the Pajero. He looks at me, I look at him. We both smile.
“I’ll say this for the last time,” I said. “I love you.”
The pavement was golden, and the city was alive with taxis and buses. Our past is in the past, and I’ve said what I needed to say. I love my first love, and always will. On that night, which was tonight, I let him go for the very last time.