No one reads this anyways - but it's time to make a note. About a guy.

Last year I've seen his art over a friend's page. I wasn't very active in the furry community back then and had no furry friends either. But this guy had some nice arts - I commented on some. In these moments my head got blown.
He was funny and nice, not afraid to answer to others. I fell in love with him. Already after the first words and the few lines that form a picture.
My life was a wreckage back then; I was depressed, took medication, was sick of life. Without medicine I though about suicide, had trouble sleeping. The only thing keeping me up was the distraction of PC gaming.
One night I drank too much. And as drinking alone isn't sad enough I wrote a stupid, stupid message to that nice guy on FA.
...he replied.

We had first "real" talks and I added him on Steam. We played some TF2, chatted day by day, played around. I was really in love, for the first time in my life. He lived all across the world, but I knew he was the right one. He gifted me Dota 2. We played it, I was a complete and utter noob in that game, yet he didnt get mad.
One day he screwed around. I couldn't hold it anymore, I told him my feelings.
It took him a minute to answer. But this whole minute felt like years. Then he started typing, a message arrived; "I do too."

I was happier than ever, I could have started singing, dancing. The next weeks, no, MONTHS were a dream. He introduced me to other furries. He took it upon him to help me create and draw a fursona. He drew us together. Alot. I watched him draw, I was fascinated by him, we started talking day per day on Skype, sometimes leaving calls running overnight while one is sleeping.
I felt better. I stopped taking my medication, even without my doctors noticing. Eventhough he got mad at me at times (from Dota mainly), we were a heart and a soul. When I couldn't sleep, I imagined him being there, golding me with his arms.

Then, in janurary, I had to go to a clinic because of my agoraphobia (For all of you that aren't medical students; Fear of being with people). He drew me a picture of me hugging him while we are sleeping. I glued it on page 1 of my clinic diary.
In the clinic I was scared. I knew noone, I was older than anyone. But every night before falling asleep the picture of him helped me fall asleep. Keeping in touch was hard, but not impossible.

When I came back, he was really happy. So was I.

But all good times have to change. Every tree that blooms will lose its leafs in winter.

We got a new friend. He was desperately looking for a relationship and life hit him as hard as me, maybe eve harder. A nice, honest guy which whom we spend lots of time. For the first time after a while, my boyfriend actually drew himself with someone else in an "adult" situation for an art trade. We played games with him.

One day he admitted his crush on my mate. I saw how much my love enjoyed talking to the new guy, how much I felt like the fifth wheel on the cart when we were talking. While it took him hours to respond to me, he responded quickerto the new friend. I gave him a choice.

He chose me.

Yet, the next weeks, things changed a bit. He admitted feelings for the new one, told him he loved him behind my back, even told him to kiss him when they meet (Distance is no problem for those two). I gave him abother choice.

He chose him.
The other guy saw though how sad he was with the decision, so he made him rethink.
He chose me. Again.
For an hour I lost my boyfriend which I loved and worshipped. On my birthday.

But I had yet to know that it was merely a birthday gift.

A few days later, the other two met up. The plan was to give each other a goodbye hug and maybe a small kiss on the forehead.
Later I was told, both kissed. Both kissed for the first time ever.
I gave my love another chance; If he thinks he'll be happier with someone else, I will be the last one to stand in his way. My love goes so deep, I'd take a bullet. And I was ready for the ultimate sacrifice; I would sacrifice my own well-being for him.

He chose the other guy under tears.
He said how good it felt, how much he wants more, how much he still loves me, but that he can not bridge the distance between us two.

We parted ways. We will still be friends, and I will still need time to not think about him day by day. But it is over.
I want him to be happy now. Eventhough I still love him, I had to let him go.
His birthday gift was 2 more days I could spend with him. Without him even knowing, he made a gift.

Looking back, I had the time of my life.
Without him, I'd still be depressed.
Without him, I wouldn't have the knowledge that I can be loved.
Without him, I would not have made the jump over my shadow and looked for a job.
Without him, there'd be no "Flai".
Without him, I would not be here.

Without him, I would not be myself anymore.
I wouldn't know who I am.

He teached me the true meaning of love, happiness and the fact that everyone (even the biggest, sore loser) can find someone.

And eventhough I wish everything was different, I can not change it. I can just look back at all the times we had.
I will keep my diary of the clinic as souvenir. In bad times, I will open it and look at the picture. This picture means hope to me.

So.

Thank you Taco.
Thank you for everything.
You have helped me more than anyone ever was able to.
And those blinkie icons, the diary and each game of Dota I play will remind me of all the times we had.

Farewell, partner.
Farewell, my love.