This should feel wrong. This shouldn’t satisfy me. This should make me feel hollow inside.

But it doesn’t.

Caught in the passion of the moment, my mouth feasts hungrily on that of the man in front of me.

I don’t even stop to consider it’s not you.

Lying on my back, moaning as he works his way down my chest.

Your name doesn’t even pop to mind.

As the heat engulfs me, and I cry out.

It’s his name I scream, not yours.

As I pull him in for another kiss, tasting myself on him.

It’s not you I’m thinking of.

It’s him, it’s all about him.

It always has been.

With him, the feeling’s mutual.

With you, it’s stone cold.

I can’t go on living like this.

*****

You’re late home from work again.

Normally, this wouldn’t bother me, but you’ve been doing it more and more lately, and I seriously need to talk to you about something.

About us.

You think I can’t tell there’s someone else?

You’ve been so happy lately, practically floating off the ground.

And it kills me to think it’s not due to me.

Clearly he can give you what I can’t, he can make you happy.

I’ve decided I’m going to let you go.

To him.

I’d rather see you happy with him than have you trapped in a relationship you hate.

And pretending I don’t know is starting to physically hurt.

I can’t go on living like this.

*****

Sex.

That’s all our ‘meaningful’ relationship has turned into.

Turns out: he and I aren’t so compatible.

Since you left, it’s just been getting worse and worse.

I miss your caring nature, your consideration.

I miss us.

He’s violent. He’s short tempered.

He’s everything you’re not.

Shame I only worked that out after you’d gone.

I want you. I need you.

I can’t go on living like this.

*****

I look at a picture of you carefully.

I wonder how you are.

I’ve found a new life.

One I cherish.

But I can’t seem to forget you.

You were my first.

But you’re with him.

You always will be.

I’ve lost you.

But I’m fine to go on living like this.