The past is fluid. You think you have a handle on what was, but with some crucial bit of information you realize you had it all wrong.
Who am I to you? Or you to me? What is the significance of a shared bite or a small gift? For me it was something, for you…just friends.
“Just”. A four letter word like “shit” and “fuck” and “loss”.
Which means something different to each of us, it seems.