Happy birthday, Monkeyboy

I'm sad we won't be making dinner together this week for your birthday as planned. I won't be giving you the gifts I got for you, even if for the moment, I'm not ready to think about returning them. I was going to give you these, for hiking in the ice, along with a printout of information for a hike we could do together in the Whites:

And this, because you like my pottery:


And lastly this, so we could go see the movie together when it comes out in a couple weeks:

And also I was going to make you your favorite cake:

It probably wouldn't have looked quite that good, but I would've tried. I'm not going to send you a message to say happy birthday. I think you know I'm thinking it, anyway. I'm trying not to think about you and to find other people I'm interested in dating. This morning, I even threw out your toothbrush. But before the bristles touched anything in the trash, I grabbed it out again, because I'm just not quite ready for that yet. I'd hate to think you've thrown out my toothbrush already. And I don't quite buy what you said about things not feeling right between us. At least, they sure felt right from my point of view.