It happened under a tree, on a patch of grass overlooking the strand and sun setting over the pacific ocean. How fucking romantic. You said you wanted to make this relationship work, and that you didn't know if we were still dating or if we had broken up last week. I had asked you if you were happy, how did you feel and I had taken you by surprise. You said you were bitter and resentful. And you asked me if I wanted this relationship to work. so I asked what you meant by bitter and resentful. You said relationships fall into patterns and that you tried to give me my space, but you felt that when we were together I had put up a wall, and it hurt.

And you asked me if I wanted a relationship with you.I sat there picking grass. I so desperately wanted to say, "I can't", but that wouldn't have been the truth. Not the whole truth. So I settled for: "No...I can't." You asked me: "What had changed?" I wasn't happy anymore. I wasn't happy when I was with you and I wasn't happy when I was not with you. And you asked me if it was things in my life that made me unhappy and you were just one of them, or if it was just you. I sat there picking leaves. I couldn't answer. And you let me off the hook. You said: "you know, it doesn't matter anyway." And you got up and said with a bitter tone: "good luck with everything" And I watched you walk back to the strand and away.

Why? You want to know why?

When I showed up you answered the door and looked great. Not tired. Not depressed. Not pissed off at whatever. You looked great and said: "lets go to the beach and talk." I wasn't going to have that so I steered us toward the strand and we walked toward the pier. And made small talk. You wanted to know what had been going on in my life since I had shown up last week, kicked a hole in your chest and walked away.

I did most of the talking. I talked about everything: The newspaper. Gossip about the people at the newspaper. The theater. Gossip about the people at the theater. The band. Gossip about the guys in the band. My family. Gossip about my crazy family. You talked. You said: "if I can get through tomorrow I'll have survived the week. I finally asked you about that web job you sent a resume out for. You said: "No." Did you follow up on it? "No." You know, I was on vacation and I got back and got into work and just didn't get around to it. You know it's kind of rude how they didn't reply to me, tell me the job was filled, or we got your resume or thanks for submitting."

I bit my tongue. I asked about our friend and his internet company. You said: "they were doing great. Bob has too much work to do. They're looking for a full time trainer. Oh, but I couldn't do it. I'd need all the certifications and such... They're probably on the verge of becoming multimillionaires."

Again I bit my tongue.

Three times during the walk when I let the conversation die you said: "great weather isn't it", or "isn't the weather nice."

Three times.

And you want to know why?

Every time you brushed off my affection and called me the horny 25 year old. Every time you described me as a steady date to weddings. Every time you said you were waiting for me to make a million dollars so you could buy a B.M.W. and go shopping. Every time we talked about your friend and her wishy washy fiancée and how after four years it's time to either reel in or cut him loose. Every time you clung desperately to me when I didn't want to stay the night. Every time I'd steal away time for the two of us and you never wanted to leave the apartment. Every time you grimaced when I was about to leave for the theater. Every time you shot me that face when I showed up "well, I guess your dressed okay" for an event you needed a date for.

Whatever it was that eventually made me not want to leave work early to see you.

It's my fault though. For letting it go as long as it did. I knew from the start that we would be where we are today.

It was when I brought you the date-in-a-bag which you loved: candles, flowers, stuff for grilled cheese sandwiches, your favorite vodka and olives for martinis that you knew I couldn't drink, and the movie. and all I really wanted was to watch Contact with you and stay up all night talking about the universe, god and the meaning of life.

But you said: "We don't really have to watch this do we?" And I was crushed.

Instead we got drunk, watched Felicity, and made out. Not that I didn't love all that. But I knew. I just chose to ignore. And that's all I can apologize for.

...Good luck with everything.

Goodbye,

-Chris