I broke up with him a while ago. I don't remember if it's been a few weeks, months or years. I just know that I have not talked to him in a long while and I do not want to; I do check his blog at times though, because I'd like to still know that he exists and that, he was real.

He posts jokes and short stories sometimes, about how his ex was all negative things. Maybe he is talking about me or maybe he is talking about — the women he has been with before me. It could be anyone because he is good with pointing out flaws; it's an art I'd say. Or maybe, it's in fashion to label ex's as their negatives... Maybe there is a sense of relief in that. I try to understand but I am not sure if I relate to it because I always find comfort, in the happy memories and in the good in people. I like to stubbornly cling to the sunshine.

When I think about the relationship and him — I accept that there were so many things that were not right, that hurt me. But that is not how I would want to remember him. The time with him had alternate shades of light and deep blue — facets that were so bright, that it would brighten up all my existence. A couple of days of waking up next to him were so sublime, I still think of it and smile. I loved the way he blinked, the way he childishly frowned and that one time that he read to me — one of my favorite authors. He was bright and imaginative. He found stories in all the ordinary occurings around him; he was a beautiful, storyteller. I found it adorable how particular he was about brushing twice, and how organized he kept everything that belonged to him.

He was endless in the way he existed in my life. And even though I was not a memory, happy enough to him— he'll always exist in the light and dark blue corners of my mind.