Our History

Anyone close to me knows about this already, but something has been dominating my mind lately. My summer and fall could only be described as golden. Those were days of happiness and money, and adolescence. I was dating someone, and I loved it. A little more than a month ago, we agreed to stop dating each other, which is probably the easiest way to put it. Like all relationships, it was complicated. (which I say with a smirk) I did and said things I never thought that I personally would ever be comfortable doing, and I loved it. I had a wonderful time.

There is some fading sadness about it in my life. We were in almost constant contact for nine months. And I feel the loss of that communication every morning, when I don't get my "wake-up" text. I really cared for him, and he cared for me. And maybe still does, I don't know. There are times when I wish I could call him and tell him every thought I have thought since the end of our speaking, because it feels like those thoughts belong to him as well. But I suppose like all other exes, I must pack up the memories into a box and shove them into a corner where they can tarnish and become less painful. I still have a few choice text messages that I can't bear to delete, but I will have to soon, or they will only hold me back.

That being said, I am extremely grateful it happened. I had some of the best days of my life then. I can still sometimes feel his hugs. I know that I will move on, and that time is coming rapidly, but for now I am stuck in what Steinbeck called the "hour of pearl", a transition so fragile anything might rip it.

I don't know what else to say, really. I don't even know why I write this really, except that this inner self, the part that was head over heels, needs to mourn in the open for a little while. So, here I am, I guess.

Waiting for time to pass.