I just took T.H. off my buddy list for IMing. Not that we were IMing each other. But renouncing that sick, painful thrill I got every time I saw him online just seemed so healthy I couldn’t quite bring myself to do it.
Hope springs eternal in the human breast, but maybe if I dam it up I can laugh bitterly while it evaporates into nothingness.
It helps to remember that, in the breakup e-mail he sent me, he misspelled “consistent” and “reunited.”