It took me almost three years to get over him. Through one whole relationship I was still in love with him and I probably will always love him. My parents had accepted him as their future son-in-law and would accidentally call two subsequent boyfriends by his name at times. His mother cried when we parted. His dad had made me a home made birthday cake and home made ice cream once on my birthday. We would go to this parents vacation house in Cape Charles in the summer. We had a passion that was unmatched, unimaginable. "You two had a language of your own," my good friend would tell me. "Wow they are a perfect couple," strangers would say out loud at the sight of us. That really happened.
It was a defining relationship that laid down the scars in which I would try to mend through subsequent relationships. It taught me I was not good at dealing with heartbreak and how I should avoid it. It lead me to someone with a good and kind soul, who would never hurt me and loved me for all my flaws, who didn't have the same flaws, who pushes me to be a better person every day despite my whining; The Lover.
When The Ex broke my heart on that summer night (2AM) in 2006, I knew what he was in for. "You will never find another girl like me and you will never love someone like you love me ever again." Those were my parting words to him. And they are my parting sentiment for every ex I've ever had, but for The Ex, especially. What we had was lightning in a bottle. And he was foolish enough to give it up.
So here it was. A warm contact after years and months of hearing how people I know had run into him, or from strangers I just met who would tell me they knew me already through conversations with The Ex. He still talked about me after seven years. I was still on his mind. Was the feeling mutual? I will get to that.
I responded with a nonchalant, "No problem. All is forgiven," and a smiley face emoticon. I left it at that.
"you ever think you and I were made for each other?" He wrote right back. I couldn't make this up if I tried.
"I'm not doing ok but i've never been able to shake the thought," he responded. We conversed like this for a little bit longer. I was intrigued and curious. After seven years here was his comeuppance for all those scars.
There was a phone call, initiated by him. He did not seem to be in a good place. We talked for a bit and I asked more questions out of concern. He kept saying, "You won. You won."
I've waited so many years for this moment. And I thought it would feel so good. Instead it just felt surreal and sad. After seven years, here he was, defeated and just as lost as when we parted that night in August. I don't know why, but I felt hopeless for him. Throughout the seven years we had made various feeble attempts to be civil, to mend things because we both knew a friendship with each other, if not a romantic relationship, was still better than any friendship with anyone else. It never happened. There was so much baggage, so much pain left behind. I let myself fall in love again, and the pain fell away. I never got the closure I wanted but I realized I didn't need it. I just let it all go. He never did. So we chatted and I tried my best to give him his closure. I apologized for deeds of the past and told him I was grateful for everything we went through. There were many good things, beautiful things in our relationship besides the bad things that ended it. They carry just as much weight, if not more.
I told him I still cherished all the memories, that it made me who I am today. That I am happy today because of him and what we went through. I don't think of him negatively. I forgave us for our naivety. We were foolish, we were stupid and we found each other too soon to know what we had. Or maybe we found each other at just the right time?
I still smile knowing that a love like that can exist. One where the person can read you before you even speak. One where the person is practically the same as you and things only make sense in nonsensical ways and a million of inside jokes that end in sore stomachs from laughter. We had our moment and what a fine time it was.
I haven't spoken to him again after that day. After our call, his Facebook status read "forgiveness is forgiveness." I wasn't sure if he was referring to his forgiveness of me or vice versa. It didn't matter. Forgiveness is forgiveness.