EPTI'm sorry I wouldn't help you with your visa issues last year by marrying you quickly.
I'm sorry I procrastinated on the ring, because I wanted to pay my MBA debt first.
I'm sorry for the time when I didn't understand why you wanted to break up less than 48 hours after bugging me to propose for months, and in my anger, I said I would get your dad arrested on anti-corruption charges.
I'm sorry we met on a plane and we fell in love before you vetted me as a suitable husband (your words, not mine).
I'm sorry we spent time building dreams together that are now lost somewhere in the eighteen hundred miles between where you live and where I live.
One day, when we catch a glimpse of each other again, we can pretend we once loved each other. But the girl I loved and the boy you loved are both gone. They each thought they put a lot into the relationship, but it was never enough for you, nor was it enough for me.
You are right that things got heavy near the end, that we would feel an undercurrent of dread in each moment. You ask why we felt that way: we each bore burdens to hold this rhapsody aloft, and we both leaned in, but we never learned to lean on one another.
I'm sorry, but we're never going to get back together. I've moved on. And, it seems, so have you.
