Perhaps this was going to be the last, the very last time I could see him and take him in with all my senses. The wind blew against my face. It was one of those nature's symbolisms. Or foreshadowing I suppose. I didn't believe myself to be the sad victim of a failed relationship. It happened to everyone, every other day. I wasn't going to lament and cry and present myself as someone pleading for sympathy.
Handkerchiefs were not my characteristic way of handling anything.
"Are you sure?" he said. It was once again that time when I had the liberty of choice.
There is an undeniable trust that comes when you love someone, even if it came to breaking that trust. It happened almost every time in ours. I wouldn’t want to say that I held the stakes but the fact remains that I did. I sometimes used to read self help articles on relationships, even during the course of our relationship; the do's the don’ts, the how to make a guy stick with you, the tips to life long love, and even how to find out if he is cheating on you. I read it all up and it went into my head as the most "despised" piece of knowledge I had gained. According to all those 'pieces of nothing' I was the worst partner any man could possibly have. I had done all the wrong things, used the most risky of techniques and even said those particular words that made men run straight out of even the thought of being with someone. I could have even tarnished the image of all the women in the world. So maybe he was the gem or he was plain dumb. But i highly doubt i could have stuck to a dumb guy for seven years.

We weren't married but after a point he felt like a husband. We had our initial phases of infatuated excitement. The first I love you's were meaningless. Was it even love then? But saying it simply strengthened the belief that love would follow. It did. We had our intensely passionate moments and tried to deal with them like adults. We handled the periods of monotony grumbling and wailing. We spent nights talking about what love was all about and wondering if we were actually in love. We even had uncontrollable laughing sessions. I cringed at how ugly he looked with all his 32 teeth showing. I told him. I told him that he smelt, sometimes, like a potential disposable garbage can. Never told him when he smelt good. I went on and on about how his family hated me and always would. Obviously I don’t have any regrets about that. I complained that he never stood up for me and he never supported me. I ridiculed him and tortured the sanity out of him. I made simple things complicated. But I had the power to change, undo everything in one conversation.

I felt possessive when he spoke to other girls. I felt guilty that I was becoming a compulsive girlfriend. It never mattered. I broke my head for nights together about situations that became insignificant. We had amazing career highs and lows. Friends who were curious about what kept us together eventually gave up hope. We could be miles apart and still be closer than they could imagine. What they didn't know was that we could be sitting a centimeter away from each other and feel a frightening distance creeping in between.

Every time I saw a couple I missed him. But I was glad I could miss him. He never came close to disturbing the way I best functioned. In a lot of ways, he thought, I changed his life. He changed me. He would never agree. And when he didn’t I would agree with him. I could be the strong, brave, sensible, confident woman. I was like that because it was he who was beside me. And tonight I had found the courage to walk away from all that I had built on- hope, love, success, happiness, support. I was walking into instability, criticism, questions, and loneliness.

"You trust me with this, right?" I managed to say
"I love you" he said impassively
I smiled and walked away.