“I’m seeing someone new,” Sam blurted, then winced. “Sorry, that’s—I didn’t mean to just—”
Sam nodded, but his eyes were wet. “I’m sorry.”
“For what it’s worth,” he said without turning around, “I would have woken up excited every day.”
Sam was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, “I don’t know how.” The Boyfriend
Three months later, Alex ran into Sam at a grocery store. Sam looked different—thinner, maybe, but relaxed in a way he hadn’t been at the end. They exchanged hesitant hellos.
And that, he decided, was enough.
The breakup wasn’t dramatic. No yelling, no thrown dishes, no storming out. Alex simply gathered his things—his hoodie from the back of the chair, a toothbrush from the bathroom, the small succulent he’d brought over three months ago. At the door, he paused. “I’m seeing someone new,” Sam blurted, then winced
Sam’s jaw tightened. “I’ve been thinking… maybe we’re not right for each other.”
He played a new chord, one he’d been learning. It wasn’t perfect, but it was honest.
Sam laughed—the real laugh, full and warm. “You always were too reasonable.” Then he said, “I don’t know how
Then, slowly, the silence stopped feeling like absence and started feeling like space. Room to breathe. Room to notice the things he’d neglected: his own friends, his half-finished novel, the guitar in the corner that had gathered dust.
They parted ways at the checkout, carrying separate bags to separate cars. Alex didn’t look back. He drove home to his quiet apartment, made himself a cup of coffee—black, the way he actually liked it—and sat down with his guitar.
He closed the door softly behind him.
“Try.”
“Someone has to be.”