103 : you don't have to wear your best fake smile

You once held your fist up and said “your heart is the size of your fist.” 
And yes, I know that to be true. And you have used yours to go through life fighting.
But darling, please remember to uncurl your fingers occasionally.
Remember that she will always take your hands.

Your eyes were the same colour of the sky in so many of the places that I’ve been to.
They were startlingly clear, the brightest blue.
The same as so many of the places that I’ve been to, but not loved enough to stay.

I told you that I was drunk when I apologised for the way that I treated you.
I wasn’t.

I knew what divorce meant before I knew how to spell my surname. 
That didn’t matter, because it turned out that I would be using the word “divorce” long after my old surname was lost to old family albums and wedding ring engravings.

You said that you felt special as the first person that I slept with.
I was a child. I felt nothing but filthy.

The first two people to tell me that they loved me received a quick smile in return, but I felt like I was choking. I couldn’t say it back.
When you told me that you loved me, it sounded an awful lot like “you’re home.”

I kept every word that you sent me when you were furious, when you were sad, when you were hurting. I needed to remember that you were human.

I'm scared. You made me scared. The first time that he touched me, I jumped out of my skin. When I told the fourth one that I had to leave, I wondered if I had made some huge mistake by leaving you. I'm still scared that the answer is yes.

I jokingly tell my friends that I can't wait until I have a day off. But I don't really know how to be alone any more.

You asked why I smiled at strangers when we were stuck in traffic. I remember your hand on the gear-stick, the other idly tapping a finger against the black leather of the wheel. 
I told you that I liked them.
I told you about the fact that I see the people who carefully step around the plants growing in the pavement, the people who laugh so loudly that it turned into something real and less-than-perfect, the people taking pictures of their friends because they want to capture that moment of happiness forever, the people who say "bless you" when you sneeze, the people who blush when you compliment them.
I told you that I loved them.
And I will never forget the way that you smiled at the brake-lights of the car in front, and said that you loved me.