I am sitting in the front seat of my car with the phone to my ear, unable to do anything but listen to him.
“True love doesn’t always last,” I say. “It doesn’t always have to be for a lifetime.”
“Right. And that doesn’t mean it’s not true love,” Jesse says.
It was real.
And now it’s over.
And that’s OK.
“I am who I am because I loved you once,” he says.
“I am who I am because I loved you once, too,” I say.
And then we say good-bye.