subject line: happy birthday. December 02, 2015 by Hannah Brencher new york, new york This time last year, I walked into your kitchen. I was sick and I didn’t want to leave my bed; I don’t threw on an old knit sweater that I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing in public and I let my best friend convince me to drive to your apartment around midnight. Because it was your birthday, I didn’t even think about hesitating as I grabbed the keys. I didn’t even bother knocking, I just walked right into your dinky apartment and straight into your kitchen. You abandoned your drink on the counter and let me run into your arms; one minute I was on the ground, the next my world was spinning. Every moment with you, my world was spinning. You laughed as I fell asleep on your shoulder, pretending to be apart of the conversation, even as the rhythm of our heartbeats fell into sync. This time last year, I loved you the only way I knew how. This year, I ordered drink after drink as my texts to you went unanswered. As I lost track of the number of drinks, I promised myself this was the end. I swore up and down to my best friends that I was done; that if this text was only answered with silence, I would let go; that it was finally time to walk away from you. This year, my heart is breaking as I let go of the only boy I ever loved. Happy birthday, R. I hope you find what you’re looking for, even if it wasn’t me.