1. I purposely left that guitar at your place. I remember thinking, but also saying (out loud; to you) as long as you have the guitar here, we’ll have to see each other one more time. This proved to be true.

2. An estimate, but it couldn’t be far off.

3. Beforehand, I mentioned visiting you to a friend. I told her how hard it would be to not touch you, kiss you (fuck you). She told me I could do it, it would work out. I’m not sure which outcome would be considered working out.

4. I’m actually not sure that you have it, but I liked making you feel like you owe me.

5. I didn’t lie about this part, but I left out that the sex was better after you had too much to drink. You let me pretend you were other girls, call you other names.

6. Completely fabricated.

7. This happened, though I exaggerate how drunk we were.

8. I knew she would be over for dinner, that we wouldn’t be alone. She was still with Steve, my former roommate, who’s dad had threatened to “beat my ass” at one point. Another story.

9. You told me it was probably for the best that she was here, that if not, something bad might happen. That part’s true, but I leave out that I wanted it to happen.

10. True. I do hate you (also; love and other things).

11. I didn’t actually say that (I just thought it).

12. This is where we danced without music outside by my car. A man asked me for a ride, I said no. Afterward, we didn’t continue dancing, the moment gone. We had never danced before, not sure why we would at all.

13. Leaving, you said, “I love you” in a way that’s surprised, like you just realized it. I couldn’t say it back, so I said, “I know.” Then I left.

14. The first time telling this story, this is where I included the part about where I say “I know,” thinking it was cool, like I was Han Solo. The listener said it sounded like “a line from a bad indie movie.” That portion of the story has been excluded ever since.

15. Your exact wording was, “So I guess we’ll never see each other.” We both knew it was coming. All we could do was wait for it to hit us, knock us out of our orbits. Out of each other’s.

16. This is 100% true. And as much as I wish it wasn’t, I think it’ll always be true. For you and me both.

Alex Sobel lives in Toledo, OH, where he is a freelance journalist and contributer to The Press, a newspaperout of Oregon, OH. His work has appeared, or is forthcoming, in publications such as Foundling Review; Ink, Sweat and Tears; Two Words for; and The Stray Branch. You can follow Alex on Twitter.