Thank you for not smoothing out your corners and rough edges. Yea, they’d poke and scratch me up every now and again, but with enough distance, from all these months apart, I’m grateful you’re you. The pokes challenged me in a new way, and at the end of the day, weren’t really a big deal. 

You embraced my edges, too. 

Thanks for crying so much with me. And letting me cry. And let me hold space for you to cry. 

When you zoom out, it’s kinda funny to think that it’s entirely possible that our relationship involved more time crying together than anything else. But it was beautiful. It was healing.

If we were still talking, I'd ask you about this tank top from Pride that’s too big. I know one tailor in town but I don’t know if tank tops are things people bring to tailors. Or I’d ask you for advice on how to do it myself. Or if you were feeling enthusiastic, I’d let you go at it.

But we’re not talking, so no, I’m not going to reach out. 

After all, I remind myself, you have a husband now.