I'd been practising the break-up conversation. No, not with him. By then, we both knew what we would tell each other. But everyone else would want the full story - - mum, my three friends, my brother, my still-in-touch former boss.
"We broke up."
"We split up" sounds better?
"Thank you. Yes, we'd been together for a long time."
"Logistical reasons - - with my recent move, there wasn't another option. A permanently long distance relationship didn't seem feasible."
What if they ask if I still love him? What if my voice crackles or my eyes well up?
---
Two days before I was to leave, we went out. We went to the cinema - a charming old place that we'd never been to all these years we lived in the city. There were curtains around the screen. He took a photo of the screen and sent it to the man he'd been chatting with on Grindr.
After the film, we walked around the Christmas market in the city centre. He bought me a glass of ginger wine. And three fridge magents to take with me - each featuring an iconic landmark in the city. Then we caught the bus home. He offered me the window seat. Our silence was broken only when he asked if I wanted to get down and walk home along the harbour.
As we were walking, we could see the lights and the big wheel at another one of the city's many Christmas markets. He was incredulous when I told him I'd never been on a big wheel. "Let's remedy that right away," he grabbed my arm and walked swiftly.
We went on the wheel. Walked around the market. And walked home.
---
Once we were home, instead of checking in for my flight, I postponed my travel for four more days. I wanted to love him for four more days.
