There are days when I think of him fondly, or not at all.
There are days when I get so angry at him, at all I offered him, how I was going through a rough time and he wasn't able to be there for me, but he was able to push me aside.
There are days when I ask myself "What the hell was I thinking? Was I drunk our whole relationship?" The answer to that of course is no. But I had thought on more than one occasion, "this is it, this is the man I am meant to spend the rest of my life with."
He had seen me at my best, he had been able to see glimpses of my worst, but he never once really opened up to me. My only regret being that I wasn't able to spend more time with him. I never once regretted the hours I spent in the car going to him or coming back from him. I cherished our time together like it was gold.
I did, however, know when it was over, even before he had spoken the words.
And days like today, my heart aches.
Not for him, but for who I was when I was with him.
How he made me feel, about myself, about my life.
He allowed me to believe that I wasn't completely broken, that I was able to care very deeply for someone else, that all of the past loves hadn't stolen that away from me.
What the hell was I thinking?
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