Our games were perfect, your lips on mine, drinking our souls, finishing us off and sliding down our tired bodies. That's how our nights used to be, although it wasn't all about sex. The games would sometimes turn into chessboards, I would move my black pieces letting you win most of the time, and I didn't care because in the end you rewarded me with your slow, gentle caresses. You, a self-confident, tender and passionate man. I, a quiet and lucky woman.

When did we get lost? You stopped playing, you stopped kissing me before going to sleep, and I stopped insisting, I let you leave me aside, and that everything give you the same. I was afraid that deep down you had someone else, but I was more afraid to ask. Facing you suggested consequences that I didn't dare to admit. With every touch I no longer received from you, it was as if the sentence was almost spoken.

Your looks no longer belonged to me; they belonged to your phone or the computer. And your words for the voice notes I secretly heard while you were locked in the bathroom making me believe you were bathing. I didn't want to realize that we no longer existed, we were just the disguise of a word, a marriage that was breaking up with every step, with every day you spent in the office and were late.

The room that glowed with warm colors had become cold and gray. Every day I felt more darts buried in my side, making me cry in silence. I remember that being close I felt you were far away. The indifference of your actions made me want to raise the anchor that held me by your side, and although I resisted the idea of losing you I knew that everything was already going downhill.

And so, missing you when we were in the same room, I decided to empty my words into a letter. I was left with the desire to tell you what my heart could not express, what I meditated on a thousand times but did not have the courage to say.

Now we will no longer be uncomfortable, and you will be able to slip into another body, and feel alive again. You will no longer have an anchor that deprives you, because I will be gone. We will be able to play with other people, we will be able to use our instincts with others, without the disguise of a word that evicted us and separated us before killing us.