We’re going to see each other for the first time again and you’re going to initiate a hug. That’s how it always happens after a time apart like this. I’m timid and shy – still processing though my broken heart and how to relate to you now; and you reach into my space and wrap your arms around me and I know that everything will be okay. I melt into you and my heart whispers, “I’m home.” And I don’t want to let go.

But this time is different.

I’ve identified the spark that begins our loop; the gateway that leads us back through the steps of our life and love, passion and eventual separation: it’s the hug. I’ve stared into the reality – knowing that I want it so bad, and knowing that if I surrender, I’ll be lost to repeat our detrimental pattern all over again.

So, don’t take it personal when I ask you not to hug me the next time we see each other.
Oh, God, grant me the strength to deny the arms that crave.

You’ve already chosen your good: your continued path without me as your partner. And so, I’m left to choose whatever good I can manage to scrape together from the delayed processing of my broken heart – and this time, I will choose to forsake our embrace.

This is my good: I will choose a different plan of action and desperately hope that it will break this sick cycle..of us.

And you surely cannot take insult since you’ve already given up on the idea of us. I’m only confirming what you’ve outlined and making sure that it fits within the reality of my existence.