It’s the idea of having to move on, perhaps that I don’t like the most. Especially when you don’t exactly WANT to; but who does, really I guess. He’s sweet, handsome, loveable and intelligent. I mean, he’s not superhuman but that’s ok. It’s what made him just right. One of those ‘catches’ that you don’t really think you’ll ever find – but I did. And I relished in the glory of being his for an incredible year and half. I was able to share kisses, hugs, giggles and inside jokes – and the token argument that of COURSE slowly became one factor in the death of us in the end. However, it was an adventure that I surely wouldn’t trade for the world, and why I didn’t notice how wonderful it was while I was prospering in it is beyond me. People really don’t love what they had until it’s gone. And though I don’t sit around and wish it were “they way it used to be”, I do hope that my future relationships will be as healthy, respectful and devoted as this one turned out to be. I am proud to have been a part of it.

I do feel that this whole “2” thing is good for us. And he might be right – we are better friends than we are lovers. And he agreed finally when I said that we had nothing in common. And I still do believe that. Opposites attract occasionally but not when there are too many of them. Having to look him in the eyes as two separate people again was miserable, though. Our last kiss was worse – and of COURSE I remember it. How could I ever forget the pain in my heart and the warm tears streaming down my face. It is symbolic. I was never able to understand why two people in a movie were BOTH crying when they broke up. Why couldn’t they just work it out? And that is when I realized why. It was because they already had. We tried and tried again; our effort was deeming. It’s funny how no matter how much you force that one puzzle piece in, it just won’t fit.

But in premature retrospect I do believe that as humans we have a whole path of life to live on and were fortunate enough to share what we DID share together. I admit – this is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to face. The truth of the matter is, that he’s already dealed with this and I never have. I’m an ‘ex girlfriend’ and now I have all these responsibilities and a new label to try and deter from. He knows how to pick up and move on – obviously, he’s proven that. He’s been a ‘ex boyfriend’. But we’re different when it comes to that. I will take solid steps – sometimes even tiptoe into a new adventure. And sometimes, I will go all or nothing. But before I do ANYTHING I will take a deep breath and analyze.

What I don’t miss is my hurting him. And I don’t miss feeling like I hold him back. And I refuse to miss watching movies with him – even though I know I probably unconciously do. I don’t miss fighting with him and I don’t miss the tears we made eachother cry at one point or another. I don’t miss the miscommunication that drove us into a dark place and I don’t miss the frusteration brought on by that, either. My regrets are only one; I don’t think I said “I love you” enough.

I DO miss it though. I miss the joy in seeing him again – even if it’s just one day after I’ve seen him already, and giving him a giant hug. I miss his silly little grin when he got embarassed. I miss the light fragrance in his car, or being DJ for the night. I miss the warmth of his touch when I would cry or the sound of his voice first thing on the other end of the phone to greet me into the day. And I miss being the only girl for him, and I miss the undivided attention I would get when he would look me in the eyes. It’s the little things that you DO miss. And I search for answers each day, even though I already am aware of what my conclusion will be ; it all comes with time. Answers are in the future.

I miss his friendship though. I miss sharing my days events with him and laughing with him at my stupid lame jokes. And I really miss being cute and being mooshed. I know that this is the way it is – and this is the way it has to be – and this is the way it is meant to be. I’m going through all the stages. First it was anger, then there was bitterness, then there was ignorance, and now we go into that void that I’m finding again – with a little of the latter three. The one that needs someone. The one that is aware now that there is a place that needs filling. And I KNOW I’m sensitive and an impossible person to get along with when I’m in a bad mood. And I’m insecure and sometimes very irrational – but he still loved me even WITH that. And it’s even harder when he can call me and tell me that I changed his life and MEAN it in the sweetest way in the world. So much in fact, that I have to hold the phone over my shirt so I can wipe the tears away and pretend that his compliment was only a compliment and not one of the most touching things I’ve ever heard.

I don’t like having an ex boyfriend. I don’t like all the feelings that come with it – I don’t like hiding from the old love letters and pictures of us together that loom somewhere in my room making it the reason I’m not cleaning it. AND I don’t like finding them and having to put them in my ‘friendship’ box. And it is sort of hard for me to realize that this is over. I really do believe that I’m handling this whole ‘moving on’ thing fairly well. Better than perhaps most people would. How would I know, though. YET – I know that I won’t be able to see him for quite some time UNLESS he needed me. I do intend to be his friend. Hopefully we’ll be the best friends that we were when we were together. We just won’t cuddle – or kiss – or hold hands. And though that sounds very tough right now, I know I’ll be able to handle that in time. Which is one thing that does confuse me some. We never WERE just friends. We were always something a little more. But I guess I’ll just cross that bridge when I get there.

It does hurt noteably that he doesn’t miss the things that I do. That his life is totally different just a month after our sealing. And I do sit up and wonder how he is every single night. And I do want to call and brush up with his day and be his cheerleader like I was for a long time. But I can’t.

That’s what happens – it’s the end of an era. I was never one for macabre – but as I’ve heard before; what IS breaking up really, but the death of the soul you two made together. The death of love.

Written: Mid September 2000

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