Page 108 of A Solid Guide to Surviving a Situationship

Traveling and doing things that felt like something. Yes.

“And Busan,” I added. “Still better than Seoul.”

Rick let out a laugh. “I’ve been saying that for years.”

“Because you were right,” I admitted. “It felt calmer there.”

“Less performative,” he said.

“And slower.”

A small pause settled between us, but it wasn’t heavy. It was reflective.

“We really went everywhere,” Rick said.

“Yeah,” I replied softly. “We did.”

And for a moment, it felt like we were back there.

In airports.

On late-night walks through foreign streets.

In places where everything felt possible, because we had each other.

I looked at him… really looked.

And then, just as easily, the joy faded.

The memories settled into something quieter.

Rick looked at me then, something shifting in his expression.

“Whatever happened to us?” he asked.

It wasn’t accusatory.

Just honest.

The question sat between us, heavier than anything we’d said all night.

I looked down at my bottle, turning it slightly against the table.

“We grew apart,” I said, because that was the simplest version.

Rick nodded slowly.

But that wasn’t all of it.

I exhaled. “We loved each other though. For a long time.”

“Five years,” he said softly.

Five years.

It sounded bigger out loud.

“There was a point where I could feel you changing,” I continued, glancing up at him. “Not in a bad way. Just… like you wanted something different.”