You phoned today. It had been a long time since we spoke, about three years. There was a message to deliver. I waited, but there was only silence. I felt your surprise; you expected me to talk, but I didn’t. I don’t like silences on the phone, and you know that. You expected me to chatter, to laugh nervously or to ask you why you had phoned; it is both a comfort and a failing. But I remained silent. You thought I was angry. My silence was out of character.
We had been together for a long time, 25 years. We were working together, and you told me you loved me, that I was your soulmate, your friend and confidante. But you left me for a work colleague almost ten years ago. She has the same hobbies as you, and she understands your challenging work, you didn’t need me anymore (you said), it was a parting of the ways (you said). You thought I would feel the same way, but you forgot to discuss it with me. You didn’t intend to be, but you were careless, and I found the letter. I read the plans you had made together when you would leave me when she would leave him, where you would live, which holidays you would go on, how you would buy a kitten. But there was no plan written for me.