Three Years after the Breakup

"I can say this now because I'm drunk..."

J is sitting across the table from me, balanced on a rickety barstool, a pint of IPA sloshing over onto his hand. He had three glasses of water at the last bar. I know he's not drunk, but I smile and nod him on. Who am I to stop a guy from getting something off his chest?

"You know I love Tricia. It..."

"...goes without saying." I finish his sentence. Tricia is, without question, the best thing that has happened to him. It does go without saying.

"Exactly. See? That's what I want to say. You know me." J looks over his shoulder at his girlfriend and smiles. "I love her. And I'm in love with her. But you and I connected in ways she and I never will."

I don't know what expression my face is wearing. My eyebrows are raised though. That much I can tell. J reaches for my arm.

"You shaped the way I see... well, almost everything. Movies. Art. People. You know that, right? Remember that time you said..."

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