I just broke up with someone I was never officially together with in the first place.
I thought it would be easy since I wasn’t really losing a boyfriend. He was just someone I talked to a lot, had dinner and coffee with every week or so. But he was also someone who cared for me and someone I cared for deeply. We had a connection — we were friends and lovers. We made each other happy. We made each other better people. We did. I saw that and neither of us could deny it.
We could have lasted longer than we did. We could have been great.
But circumstances out of our control called the necessity of putting an end to this.
And it has hit me harder than I thought it would.
This love thing. Why is it never enough?