I thought I was over you. I thought you had faded from my memories. I thought I had moved on. But it snuck up on me in such a strange way.
I was out of town for work, presenting at a conference, and yes, in your home town. OK, this is a major metropolitan city: lots of things to do here; interesting places to go; important colleagues to see. We had been "broken up" for 4 months. When I accepted the speaking engagement, we were just starting up. I thought it would be fun to go together. I brought it up, but you kind of let it slide, like going to a conference together would be unheard of. Come on, we're both in the same field. You could just as easily have been here for work, and accompanying me wouldn't even look obvious. Sharing a room might not be a good idea, but if we stayed in a hotel down the street and not at the conference center, no one would have been the wiser.
Now none of that matters as we are no longer "together," although I'm not so sure we ever were "together." Yes, we had a whole lot of great sex. Yes, we took some fun weekend trips. But as you so often reminded me, we were never really "together."
So here I am at a medical conference in your home town, and you are back where we live. We don't see each other anymore. We don't even speak. Luckily after your residency we ended up at different hospitals, in different departments, and specializing in different things. There is some overlap, and some of your colleagues are here, but you aren't. Don't worry, Jake, they still don't know we were together.