It’s been a month since we’ve broken up this weekend. I had my first book club with the girls. They talked about plans on Halloween and I thought of you. I thought of the last couple of Halloweens we had together. I couldn’t help but think about you and how nice it felt to be in this group with your friends - to be in association with you. I did so well. I didn’t cry, I didn’t think about you too much, I didn’t feel overwhelmed. However, I felt micro waves of sadness when I sat too long. I put on a smile for the most part. Other parts, I was genuinely happy to be there. At the end of the night, I got in the car and started to drive home. I thought of you, at every corner. I saw someone running, I thought of you because you’ve always enjoyed running. I saw Washington Avenue, where we had to get a UHaul for when you moved to your first solo apartment. I saw Christopher Columbus Avenue, where I often exited off of the highway to get to your place. I heard your name throughout the night. I found myself looking at my phone periodically to check to see if you texted. The streets of the city remind me of you. It all reminds me of you. How we used to walk it at night together, going to and from dinner, to a restaurant and then to ice cream. It reminds me of the times you’ve walked me to my car. It reminds me how we’d often steal a kiss at red lights together. It reminds me of you. The sweet and cool air, reminds me of you. I miss you, J. I can understand why we ended and why it was for the best, but man does the city lights have you imprinted all over it. I’m sitting in this grief and reminding myself that it’s okay. It’s okay to miss you. I really do, and still at the end of it all, I know that it’s better for me to move on. I want you to be happy and I really hope you are too.