After more than three years together

today we separated. He had to go – things just weren’t working for us these last few days. For three and a half years he was always there. Reliable, comforting, beautiful and pretty good at everything he did. He helped me with my work. We watched House be brilliant and obnoxious together. We travelled away from and back home. He stayed up late whenever I couldn’t or wouldn’t go to sleep. He took pictures of me which I then erased. When I was sick, he would never leave my bedside. When I was feeling good, he would put on music for me to dance to. He knew all the songs I love. There was no obscure question he could not answer, except for the normal existentialist what’s-the-meaning-of-life stuff. He almost never complained, and when he did, he usually had a right to. Did I mention he was extremely sexy? And stylish too. He remembered every single thing we did together but he cleverly let me put past mistakes in the trash can. I mean, I couldn’t possibly ask for more. 


I hope my mac comes back home soon.

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