I went back to the café that we used to go to.
But this time I went with someone else.
The waiter guided me to what used to be our favourite table and pointedly did not ask about you.
Now he is very different from you; he can tell his coffee beans apart and knows how to make a mean cup of flat white. He doesn’t care much for the cakes on display and the décor doesn’t fascinate him like it did you.
His hands feel different and he doesn’t say my name like you do. He laughs in a way so unfamiliar to what I’m used to but it makes me want to go home and write about it.
I had wanted to find someone to replace you; to fill the you – shaped void that you’d left behind in a flurry of angry words and broken promises.
He doesn’t remind me of you at all.
And I realized that it’s okay.
That after so long, I can finally say that I’m okay.