It’s been eight years since you left me. The same amount of years we’ve been together. Has it really been that long?

I still have your letter, but today, I think it’s only fair that I write this letter back to you. To bring up the things left unsaid between us. To ask all the questions I never got to ask.

Some hot and humid afternoon in July, it was the 20th, a Wednesday, I think, I ventured off into the unknown abyss of modern lesbianism and vegan Asian cuisine. The sweat trickled down the crisp colored skin of my forearms as I made my way from the bus stop to an unfamiliar vegetarian Asian restaurant with an obnoxiously huge sunflower sculpture on top. The hostess greeted me.