I've been thinking recently about how I'm not very real on my blog. Personally, I hate those blogs that only seem to to document the happy moments in their lives and nothing else. Because obviously that not the only thing in their lives. And then I realized horrors of horrors, that that's mainly what I do here. So I thought I'd share something that, if you've been drinking with me lately, is part of the reason I've been sad. I've also been ridic homesick but I think that's just because I'm such a home person and I hadn't lived at home for a long time. So I got used to it.
I just want to say that as a general rule I don't get sad about boys. Boys are often transitory in my life, which sounds worse than I mean. But almost no boy has really ever had a hold on my heart. Only really one boy. All the rest could just be described as friends and sometimes as less than that.
I met him when I was 11 years old. We were pretty much friends from the start. When I was 13 and he was 14 we went to our grade 8 Semi-Formal. Technically I asked him(aka my sister sat on me, while her best friend asked him on msn). He later told me he hadn't ever thought of me that way, but after a bunch of girls having asked him, I was the only one he had wanted to go with.
We started dating when we were 15. By dating I mean we would go for walks or watch movies and dance together at dances. Our first "date" we watched " My Big Fat Greek Wedding." Over a month in we had our first kiss(both of our actual first kisses) while watching the movie "The Transporters". We dated for 5 months and then we broke up because I was moving several provinces away and we were both 16. I think we both thought that's all it was ever going to be.
I moved back after a year but he was dating someone else. Typical me, I got drunk and told him that I had loved him that whole year but now I was over him(because I was drunk making out with someone else..also typical me). He contacted me later that week and told me "He would never feel what he felt about me about any other girl". So we got back together. Five months later we had sex(the first time for both of us.)We dated until the end of the school year, when I broke up with him, because we were both going to university and because high school relationships never last.
We both went to the same university(My logic was perhaps a little bit ridiculous) and we saw each other all the time. This made it impossible for me to get over him and so I pressured him to get back together. Around Halloween he had his first one night stand and regretted it completely. He didn't want to be that kind of guy I guess. My paternal grandmother had died around the same time and so we both reached out for each other. We stayed together that time for a little over a year. I went to lifeguard at camp in Ontario that summer and ended up getting drunk and making out with someone else but he forgave me. I unfortunately couldn't forgive myself and that was ultimately the catalyst of our breakup.
I then took a semester off and went and lived with my father in Charlottetown PEI. I had a casual relationship with a man 7 years older than me, who was a douche and exactly what I needed to move on. Or so I thought. When I returned to school I immediately fell back into old habits. I would sleep at his house all the time, but he no longer wanted to be in a relationship. I was hanging out with his roommates and he brought a girl home from a pubcrawl. I thought this betrayal was it for me. I left that night and vowed not to come back. But over Christmas he decided he missed me and when we returned to school in January we sort of fell back together. Around this time my maternal grandfather died and I needed to lean on him all the time.
We stayed together for about 10 months that time but when we returned there was alot of distance between us. I felt he didn't put any effort into the relationship and that I was the one doing everything. So I broke it off. I then began what I refer to as my months of being a slut. We spent New Years together that year for the first time ever. I missed him but I didn't think he had changed. I thought he would always chose other things over me. He started seeing a new girl after that and I decided(selfishly I know) I now wanted him back. So I told him to chose me over her. And he didn't.
They broke up in April and he got back in contact with me after several months of silence. We randomly hooked up for a couple of months. That summer he asked me where I thought we were going. I said I didn't know. He said he thought I was the girl he was going to marry.
We kept hooking up and I thought we were on the verge of getting back together. He then stopped everything, and decided he just wanted to be friends. I was never sure why. A month or two later he told me he was dating his roommate and I assumed that was why but I don't really know.
So we stopped talking. I would ocassionally get drunk and call him to hear his voice and then hang up. Not my proudest moments. Almost a year later I deleted him of facebook. I was convinced I was getting over him. He then messaged me , so I re-added him and we messaged back and forth. He wanted to be friends. This went on and sometimes when I would visit my old university town(I had moved away, hence the getting over him kind of) I would visit him, as friends.
When I moved back to my university town this fall, I drunken texted him and told him I lived across the street from where he used to live. A week or two later he invited me for coffee. We hung out for a couple hours. Later that week I texted him at 2 in the morning to invite him to a party(not a proud moment either). He convinced me to go sleep at his house "innocently" as he put it. It wasn't innocent though. And these sleepovers have continued for 2 months now.
I know its stupid but I just miss him and all the things he represents to me. It is always just easy with us, in the not relationship way but personality way. I think we might be sickly compatible and I only realized it after I was never that compatible with anyone else. But I don't know what any of this means to him, and I'm to much of a wuss to ask him. And I now only see him when I'm drinking which I think is a bad time to talk about feelings. Plus I'm scared he will tell me it doesn't mean anything. Something about him just makes me fall apart, inside out, to the point that I cry at parties. And I don't cry normally.