A breakup story, in two parts

The first time:

You broke up with me on a Sunday. It was sunny, warm enough for me to wear shorts. What does it mean, when the weather is beautiful, despite everything? What are you supposed to do with the sun?

I had been napping in your bed. Coming from my aunt’s house, I had driven to and parked on the part of the street in front of your house that I had just begun to think of as my own. Everything was the same, or similar. Despite the fact that the day before I had packed up most of my things and brought them to my house in Oakland, dumping them in a…