This will be a dramatic retelling of our entire relationship. It will begin with when your aunt gave you a fancy pair of shoes for your ninth birthday and you thought about a boy from school. It will end with the last time you order gin and still think of me. It is a very dramatic retelling so it will contain swordfighting and wilting flowers and a lot more sex. I’ll skip the part about how I was too drunk and you were too hopeful to notice distance. I’ll gloss over those Tuesday nights when you came over after work and we watched half of a shitty movie before I started a fight through omission. Were there really that many nights neither of us wanted but happened anyway? I’ll include a made-up villain in the retelling because I don’t want to choose which of us was the protagonist. The climactic scene will depict a man drowning in his bathtub at the hands of a jewel thief, and it will be a metaphor for everything I've ruined, everything we thought we could save.