We both knew you would leave for good one day. There wasn't a path with a different ending. You wanted me to push you away because you couldn't do it yourself, but I never took orders from you.

Let me go. That was the purpose of our final meeting. My outfit confused you. I was dressed for a session, not a goodbye. You were always submissive to powerful femininity, and my dominant stoicism put you in place one last time.

Don't let me go, words neither of us could utter, so we went our separate ways, with hopes of reuniting.