one day.

It was late in the day, the plaza was empty. No classes. The canteen was closed, and we were sitting in front of it, just the two of us, watching the horizon. Sunset. You told me you wanted a girlfriend. I told you I wanted a boyfriend. A bit of a discussion that I don’t remember, and we decided to have a relationship. We sealed it with a high five. I went home, you went home.

The rest of the day and night I bit my fingernails, worrying about the relationship. I felt owned. I tried to evaluate that feeling. It’s nice to belong, but for the most part I didn’t like it. The next day, when I saw you again at the canteen with your friends, you introduced me to your friends as your girlfriend. But I said I wanted to break up. You agreed. And since then, you became my ex-boyfriend. And that became the shortest relationship I’ve ever had. It was quite nice.

I allowed you to introduce me as your ex-girlfriend to your friends since then, not without reluctance, but quietly I knew you felt proud of it so I gracefully shared that pride with you.