I wanted you to be one of the first people I told because I feel like you deserve to know.  Honesty has always been key, hasn’t it?  I met someone new.  And I don’t know if I’m in love with him or if I’m in love with the notion of finding someone who isn’t you that I can freely be with and enjoy…  But the point is, he’s there and available.  And I’m beginning to care about him. The thing is, I don’t know if he snores or if he steals sheets.  I don’t know if, when he’s having a bad day that he gets quiet and watches television alone.  I have no idea what he listens on the radio, how he takes his coffee, or if his ears turn red with he’s anxious.  I don’t know if he devotion to anything even comes close to your devotion to your flip flops. Instead, I sit here and I answer my own list of questions as though you’re here: your snores and sheet stealing, you listen to NPR and like black coffee.  I know your very being, your habits and thoughts.  I am you. But I’m trying so hard to detach myself from who I am, you, in order to be free.  I want to fly away with someone who loves me as much as I love them. You were never my co-pilot.