seen him since.
I’ve been busy. There have been a few phone calls, but we both know it’s over.
And yet I still think about him, when I’m alone: about how it felt to wake up with my arms around him; about the movies he liked to watch; about his biting humor. It’s then that I want to return to him, to take out the man in his life now and steal him back.
But I remember, then, what we really were: two immature boys who couldn’t talk to each other; who couldn’t express their love for the other without resorting to insults and destructive behavior.
I remember the times he wanted me to come over after he’d slept with someone else; about the way his biting humor felt more like cruel invective against me, someone he claimed to love.
There were so many feelings with Boy — good and bad — that it’s hard to not want to go back. After all, who’d want to live in an emotionless existence, with everything smooth sailing? But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from this boy, it’s that you don’t have to take the bad with the good; that I deserve someone with a sense of decency developed enough to not need to denigrate me to feel good about himself.
And that is a good lesson to learn for a guy who, after all, just got into this thing to have some fun.
