The night feels suffocatingly heavy, like it’s been wrapped around me, and I can't breathe. There's a weight in my chest, a tension in the pit of my stomach that won’t shake off, no matter how many times I try to convince myself it’s all fine. Everything’s fine. You know how much I wish that was true. But tonight, something feels different, something deep inside me, clawing to get out. It’s past 2 AM, and the room is too quiet. The city of Rome, outside the window, is almost still. I haven’t been able to sleep since I got back to the hotel, even though Zoe’s lying beside me, the soft rise and fall of her breath faint in the background. I haven’t told her about you. She doesn’t know about the... history. The one that still makes my pulse race and my hands tremble every time I think about you. It’s too complicated. Too much of a mess. But here I am, tangled in it once more. Everything started to fall apart the moment I saw you on the street today—no, not just today. That moment we locked eyes for the first time in two years... That was the real beginning, wasn’t it? No more pretending that it didn’t hurt, no more hiding behind the “mutual” ending in 2023. The truth of it hit me like a freight train as soon as I saw the look in your eyes. It was like we had both been waiting for this. Like we knew it was inevitable. Ross had his arm around your shoulders. You were laughing with him—laughing, and it was the same sound I used to love hearing when I could make you smile, when I was the one making you laugh. He’s a good guy, yeah, but there’s a distance in the way he holds you. It doesn’t have the same... intensity. You’re not mine anymore, not for a long time, but when I saw you with him, something inside me snapped. I wanted to rip him away from you. I wanted to scream. But I didn’t. I just stood there, watching you, wondering what we had done wrong. And then, you looked at me. Your eyes found mine, and for the first time in two years, we really saw each other. It wasn’t like the casual “hi” we exchanged in those random text messages we sent in the last months of 2023. No, this was something else. It was everything we had ever been—all at once. It was the weight of twelve years together, of late-night phone calls, whispered promises, all the bullshit we couldn’t say because we were too scared to admit how deeply we hurt each other, how we never really let go. Not even after everything. I didn’t smile. I couldn’t. I just stood there, heart pounding in my chest, pretending that it didn’t feel like I had swallowed a piece of glass. I thought I was done with you. Thought I could move on. But seeing you again, seeing the way you looked at me with that same fire, that same longing, I knew—I knew in that instant that nothing had changed. I could feel it in my bones. I should’ve turned away, should’ve walked away and kept my distance like I promised myself I would, but I didn’t. I stayed rooted to the spot, still watching you, hoping you’d turn around and walk back to me. The desperation was back, but this time, it wasn’t the same kind of desperate we used to have. This was different. It was darker, more real. It was the ache of something lost, something broken that couldn’t ever be fixed, not entirely. But I still wanted you. God, how I still wanted you. I could hear Zoe’s soft murmur in the background as she shifted in the bed beside me. She was asleep, blissfully unaware of the storm raging inside me. I can’t do this to her. I can’t. But I don’t know how to keep pretending like I’m not in love with you, even after all this time. I reach for my phone, hands shaking as I type out a message. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t even be thinking about this. About you. But here I am, pulling the screen closer, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. I think about the words I want to say, the words I need to say to you, but no combination of letters feels right. What am I supposed to say to someone who knows me better than anyone else? Someone who’s seen me at my best and worst, who’s been my equal in everything we’ve ever shared?