Fate

I turned in my resignation letter yesterday, and I'm packing up our old apartment. It's been mine since June, but so much of it is still yours.

There's a box on the window sill of things I may or may not mail back to you. I can't decide if it's worth the postage, so it sits there collecting dust in the meantime.

I don't do well with change I don't understand, and I couldn't understand you leaving while you still said you loved me. I had to make sense of it for myself.

So here I am, changing everything, moving, making my dreams reality, living the life I couldn't live if you had stayed,

your number is blocked, you won't have my new address, and I'm convincing myself, finally, all things happen for a reason.