In the real world endings are sad.
It is only in fiction where there are resolutions. I search about for some kind of full stop, some parting line that will make sense of all the rest of it. We are not parting, but there has been a shift, a rending of the ground between us. I glance across it and you are so far away from me. Too far to whisper secrets to you. Too far certainly to hug. I wave. Yes, I am here, you wave back as if nothing has changed. For you, nothing has changed. You never saw yourself twinned in me. You never felt the same closeness, as if your organs had been ripped from your chest and sewn roughly onto someone elses.
I chat with you but you are talking happily to someone else. I know it but I am no longer angry. I do not feel abandoned. I do not need your attention with the same ferocity.
In other circumstances you would say I had fallen out of love.
I stand here at a safe distance and I miss the habit of you. Two souls snuggled in intimacy like children whispering under the sheets. I thought the innocent ferocity of our friendship would last forever. I thought I might die from it, but I didn't. At the end I am just numb and lonely and perhaps a little bored. At the end of it you shrug. Nothing has changed for you. You have other intimate friends. I am not your only. It was good, the best, but now you will move on without a trip in your trajectory and I realise that I was not that much really, not anything different. Now you have your whole bunch of friends. And I am alone.
I will get more work done.