The brand new parka offers no defense. The many layers of clothing are not helping much either. The sneaking suspicion is not even the higher temps forecast for the coming weekend are going do little to warm me. I can’t shake the chill.
Movement, maybe keeping busy will help.
The chill started a couple days ago. Beginning with, “Sweetie, sorry . . .”
It continued, “I care deeply about you and always will, but . . .”
Everything after but, became a blur including, “I can’t do this anymore.”
Chill settled in around my shoulders and hasn't released me.
I’ve read and re-read the missive and those that followed. I’ve talked with Neta and it’s clear she doesn’t want or rather, can’t be in an intimate, romantic relationship any longer. I have no choice but to accept her decision.
We have talked and will talk more. We will try to forge ahead with a friendship. We may become much better friends than we were lovers, or rather the lovers we were growing to become.
In our time together, given that we were 500 miles apart, there were many things that we hadn’t done as a couple. We’d had the opportunity to celebrate only a few “firsts” in our nearly two years.
There were many more “firsts” penciled on my list. Saying, “Neta was my girlfriend” wasn’t one of them. Thinking of and referring to Neta as my former girlfriend will be, surreal.
Maybe more hot tea will help this chill, though I rather doubt that it will.