It was that moment in my car, driving to the mountains to get away, and listening to the Adele CD “21” for the third time straight and still bawling that I realized that I had had enough with him. Five years of insane ups and downs had come to this moment where I had officially become “that girl” – irrational, overly emotional and hanging on to every word that Adele sang. That’s when I turned my car around, drove back to the city, and decided that I was going to be over him.
That was last March. One year later has brought me a plethora of other awkward, hilarious, cringe-worthy and awesome encounters with other guys. The year also brought me back to him. On a real date last night. Our first one since 2009.
For two hours before dinner, I seriously considered canceling on him at least fifty times. Why were doing dinner now, after all the bullshit that he had put me through during college and after? Could he have really changed? Do we both want to do this? It wasn’t dinner that I was scared of…it was how I would feel after.
I walked into the restaurant and immediately felt, as I always do with him, like the 18-year-old college freshman that I was when we met. There is just something so familiar and comfortable about him, when combined with all of the things that I love about him, make me go weak at the knees and forget all the ways that he’s hurt me.
Three sushi rolls, two and a half hours, and a bottle of wine later, we were just as we have always been. We were laughing while rehashing college stories, commiserating about our jobs, and reevaluating our dreams. So familiar, so comfortable, so everything-I-have-always-wanted with him.
I can see myself being married to him, which sounds insane because of all of the ups and downs. Being with him just feels right. No one in the world can make me laugh harder than him, or make me feel like I can just be myself. But then there’s that nagging feeling again that reminds me of all the nights I went home crying because of him. And the way I would get dropped like a bad habit. And the way he promised every time that it would be different, and then it wasn’t different at all. It would end worse than the time before. Every time anything got too serious, too connected, we would end.
So, I guess that’s where he and I have to leave it. What could have been, isn’t, and probably won’t ever be. I’m not sure that I have anything left for a relationship with him beyond a friendship. Though he may not realize it now, he doesn’t either. “We could have had it all…” but it’s just too late.