No matter how you slice it, and one can surely argue against, but I believe our breakup was premature. It feels premature. It feels as if we still hold some sort of obligation towards each other outside of being “friends”—sure, we’re friends, or friendly, or friendlier than friends, however you wanna class it, but the obligation feels much more profound. I can’t look at Jerome without knowing, no matter what our label is, that he’s mine. Its going to be wrong, no matter the circumstance, if and when we decide to move on. And I say that thinking I being his friend will have to stand by and watch this, console and nurture his new budding relationship because that’s what friends do, right? And I’m trying to decipher how possible it would be for me to do that knowing no matter whose he’s with—Jerome is still mine. I can imagine my temper. I can imagine the annoyance of having to keep up appearances, batting my eyes in compliance to an argument they’ve (Jerome and the new Guy) had and having to give objective advice about what actions need to be taken. He loves his Almond Milk?—he should!—Cuz I loves me some Brown Boy. But Romie inquired what I might’ve learned from our breakup and if I’m made to think about it…

I learned that if I followed my head and not my heart I would’ve dodged several bullets with you. I learned had not any of these instances happened, that catered to our downfall, had we proceeded with our relationship, you not being able to recognize the light that burns inside me, I learned that you would’ve still been dating a false image. I learned that you only live once so its better to love hard when loves approaches than live without ever loving and I loved loving you. I learned that friends are hard to manage and lovers are even harder. I learned to never take morning classes when your husband is a cuddle slut. I learned to always close messenger when finished. I learned your boiling point, Jerome. I’m learning you.

I might need to step down when the next guy comes along; pectorals raging, and his dick of dynamite. As of today I couldn’t imagine being able to handle it. I could see you recycling back into the habit of “live-in lovers” and movie nights with big dumbass mushroom burgers with the new beau and I can’t imagine when there will come a time when you telling me that will feel appropriate and nor do I think it just if I’m to be a friend to you and be excluded from your exciting new relationship. Vomit! I’m working with a lot. I’m going to miss a lot. ...but i guess i am ready to take over the world!