I only remember our relationship and our lives together as an afterthought in your heart.

I became an afterthought that night you had already eaten; the rest was leftovers.

Leftovers. I could pull them out if I wanted to, heat them up… but to tell you the truth, it was much easier to just not eat.

When we came together, you already had lived so much of your life… all your dreams; all the experiences. You had your kids, your house, your job, your… life.  You told me there was still much to be done, and you wanted a love to stand beside you.  I had been waiting for someone like you to come along, waiting for my life to start again. I thought we could finish what we started, pick up where we left off, and join together. I think back, and I was wrong.

All I wanted was you.  All you wanted... was you.

There was time for us, after you were done. We could be together, when you finished. 

I remember making plans, racing to see you. I remember the silence of an empty house. I read the note… ‘Be back later!’

I dreamt of wine and candlelight for us to finish the evening.  The only wine was what remained after your friends left the dinner party. I put it away; you left a mess on the counter.

Maybe we could have time alone, after...   “Maybe, we’ll see”, I heard.

“Yeah…okay… next week, then.”, I replied.

It was so natural to just put you at the top of my list, my first priority. To you, well, I wasn’t first on your list… didn’t even make the first cut.

I learned I was just convenient.  I filled some need for you, some need I don’t remember anymore.

I took care of my own needs. I cooked my own dinner, washed my own clothes, made sure the house was clean. I got plenty of rest, cared for my health. I forgot what it felt like to be touched. I don’t remember a physical connection. My body was just an empty container. 

What I did, at least I did for me. I did just enough for me. Just enough, no extra.

It’s still that way today… I cook, clean, maintain, take care of my child, the cars, and the outside… I do it all without you. When I look back, it’s really not that much different from before… it’s really not that different…  Just no more note on the table.

I’m forgotten, really…not a priority. That’s the way it is… forgotten… an afterthought…

Leftovers.  I can heat them up, if I want.. but to tell you the truth, it’s easier to just stop eating.

-The Asking Boy - (Throwing out all his plastic containers, he's missing most of the lids anyway)