You were adamant, “No more kids.” It should have been a deal breaker at my age, but I kept fighting. Our connection was remarkable, still is, but we fought constantly. It wasn’t your cheating, surprisingly. I picked a fight and you asked me what was up. “I don’t want to be with you anymore.” You had been waiting for these words. I knew this was for real because you made me give my key back. I made it inside my front door before the tears started falling and I slid down to the floor, like I was in a movie.
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