I took twenty tests, (buzzfeed, not pregnancy, or coronavirus) because I thought it would be easier to leave you, if the internet told me. It sided with you, I assume they saw your eyes, or heard you sweetly singing off key, in the car, and thought “How could you ever, ever let him go?” but…

Watching you walk away, I am stuck in place, until you return. I make plans, of how I’ll tell you, that it’s over, knowing they are just fantasies, preemptive proposals, that came together too late, because you have already gone, and I am talking to myself, talking myself down, from going back to a version…