This month has been so good, and yet, so bad, for me. I finally reconciled with my high school boyfriend after 8 years. Through those eight years, we've both grown and matured, and finally, at the beginning of this month, we were able to talk about what had happened and move on.
At least, that's what I thought.
While I hadn't exactly been pining for him all these years, I can't say I ever really got over him, and after each interaction, I was made keenly aware just how compatible we are on so many levels. After meeting with him the first time this month, I was acutely aware of how much I had missed him as a friend, and being mature adults now, we were able to be friends. So for the two weeks he was home, we hung out maybe six or seven times, and started texting every night. Then, he left to Michigan, and I thought that we'd cool it with the talking. Then, I went to Puerto Rico for four days, and I thought we'd cool it with the texting.
After I got back, we started talking on the phone at night. So for the better part of the week, we talked on the phone at night. For hours. Like...anywhere from 3-5 hours a night.
It was dumb. I knew from the start that it was a bad idea. But instead of labeling it and defining what was happening, I decided to just go with it and see where it would lead me. Just, go with the flow. Let it happen organically. But we both knew it was a bad idea. So last night, after a couple hours on the phone, we finally had THE TALK. "Was it odd that we were spending so much time on the phone together?" he asked. "Yes, it is." I replied. We both realized and acknowledged our poor judgment, and the fact that we were slipping back into old habits. Habits not practiced for the better part of a decade, but so familiar and comfortable. And we discussed what "being friends" would look like for us. And we both agreed to cool it with the interactions.
So today, as much as I wanted to, I resisted texting him. Twenty-one hours after we talked, we're still maintaining radio silence.
Being completely honest, it's both harder and easier than I imagined. Life just went on as it did a month ago, and nothing really changed. But it really feels like we broke up again. For good, this time. I can't even say it's bittersweet. It's just...nothing. Three weeks with my high school sweetheart, and now we act as if nothing happened. As if we don't feel the connection, the draw. As if neither of us really wants to give this a serious try.
In three weeks, I feel like I got my best friend back, and lost him again. I was happy for those three weeks. Happier than I'd been in three years.
I am glad that we've reconciled and are on good terms now. But at the same time, what does it mean, that we have to consciously choose to NOT contact each other, not be reminded of snippets of conversation? At least I know I'm not the only one this time.
