You were temporary, and I knew you would be temporary, and it was okay. I told myself that when we were done, I wouldn’t let a bad ending ruin a good thing and that I would be grateful for having you in my life. I was wrong.
          You were temporary, and I knew you would be temporary, and it was okay. But you left, and you did it while my back was turned and you did it without even calling a goodbye over your shoulder.
          I am a hard one to convince that an affection is true, but you tried, and you tried, and you finally did it. You finally did it.
          You did it.
          And then you left.
          I found out from a subtweet over Twitter. How romantic.
          I had promised myself that I was probably a rebound and that it would be okay because you were happy with me and I was happy with you. You were temporary, and I knew you would be temporary, and it was okay. And I was happy. I don’t know anymore if you were. If you had been, you probably would never have touched the door out.
          But you did. And your Tumblr is still as sad as ever and I have my gaze on a guy I won’t pursue who would probably be my own rebound anyway. So I will sit here with just wandering eyes because I refuse to make people believe I’d stay before getting up to leave.
          Who’s happy now?
          You were temporary, and I knew you would be temporary, and it was okay. I’m not sure if it’s okay anymore. I meant to float down, not be dropped. But I guess it never meant that much to you anyway.
          By the way, please stop telling me about your incessant kindness. I don’t believe you.
          You were temporary, and I knew you would be temporary, and it was okay. You know, at least I can look you in the eye, because you don’t know about how you stomped on my chest. You don’t know, so you slide out of my life, pretending like I don’t notice, and your name means less and less to me each day.
          You were temporary, and I knew you would be temporary, and it was okay. Your skin is no longer a battery that charges the air around you and your lips are not saints but only lips that manufacture words I don’t really care about anymore.
          You were temporary, and I knew you would be temporary, and it is okay.