35. No, no, I never did.

Some months had passed and I was fed up with living my life on bleached-out postcards and past emotions. The time had made me realized that my new lover was the kind that never would leave, never would puncture my heart the way you (who I don´t think about anymore and who I dont remember that once said that would never leave me, ever) once did.
And I had started to love him for that.
He had less red lips than you and was not as tall but he made me breakfast every morning and kissed all my sorrows away.
I was happy,
Truly happy that I had finally made you some kind of neutral ground.

You´re switzerland to me now. Maybe at first it was denial but one of those nights that I used to spend in his arms thinking non stop about you, I caught myself not leaving at the break of dawn, not running around looking for scraps of your love for me under my furniture and not reading your postcards 53 times a day. I was staying in those arms, kissing back at those not as red lips, breathing the same air as him for hours without thinking of broken hearts of our teenage lives and tearstained pillows every morning.

He could see that she was writing something down on the back of an old recipt as she woke up and thought that he was still sleeping.
She kissed him goodbye, but this time he felt like she ment it.
No sham-relationship or something to hide.
He read the note the second she closed the door behind her.

”I want you to know this: I would be with you all day to talk to you, call you every second your eyes stepped into my thougths, witch would be always, I would text you for all eternity. But, I don´t. I can´t. Cause I´m afraid that it will be the same the same mess forever, and all over again and I can´t do that I can´t do that again. Cause you seem great, YOU ARE JUST NOT SOMEONE TO THROW AWAY.”