I am wearing a three-quarter sleeve shirt tonight to bed.
It’s not the only one I own, but I wear it often lately.
It’s mine, but it reminds me of the ones of yours I would slip on before crawling into bed next to you and interlacing my feet and hands in yours.
Things have changed a lot over the years, but my love for you has not.
I still miss your hand in mine.
I still miss being cold from your fan.
I still miss your three-quarter sleeve shirts I wore like dresses and baked cookies in.
Maybe we weren’t meant to be together forever.
Maybe we were only three-quarters of a match.
Maybe this is true.
Maybe I’m not as attracted to men as I tried to portray to you.
Maybe I loved you, just not romantically.
Maybe we were meant to walk a short distance together on this journey.
Maybe this is for the best.
After all, we were only three-quarters of a match.
I really did want to make it work.
I wanted to be your forever.
I wanted this to last.
Three-quarters of a match more or less, I still love you.
I love you and always will.
Keep growing your wicked beard.
Share your beautiful heart with another woman the way you did with me.
Share all of you.
You’re a special one, snuggles.
May someone love you as much as I do.
May you fall in love again.
May there be endless sparks and the match you’re looking for.
She’s out there.
While I wish it were me, it’s not.
You’ll find her one day.
And when you do, know I am happy for you.
Know it’s okay.
Know I love you and always will.