I’m not good at goodbyes. It’s a Miami thing. It’s too hot to leave. It’s too hot to move on. All my ex’s still take up space in my heart in some way, shape, or photo. Maybe I’m just a helpless romantic. It’s more likely I’m just an asshole. Either way, I understand. I’m not angry. I’m disappointed. Not in you—in myself. I have desecrated your inbox for long enough. Whether you were here by mistake or by choice, I thank you for sharing a moment with me.