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I was eleven when we met, he sat across the room.
we went through grade school, always with a crush on each other. always so shy, we refrained.
somehow, we applied to the same university half way across the country. we were accepted. our relationship started the summer before our first year. we made an incredible team. there was so much fun and laughter with such a passionate romantic side. i was more in love with him than i knew how to handle.
first year was perfect.
second year was perfect.
third year was rocky. he was an international business student. this required that he go two years abroad. paris. ....paris. he was suppose to spend his final two years studying 6000 miles away from me.
we were together for so long, i felt guilty that he would be strapped down to me. i loved him, i wanted more for him. i didn't want him to have to worry about my phone calls or emails. i ended it 4 months before he was going to leave.
he was devastated. i was a wreck.

we cut communication totally.
i thought i was doing the right thing. i wanted so badly to be doing the right thing.
i dated a boy to occupy my mind and time. i told him quickly that he was a rebound. nothing was working.

we broke up in march. i emailed him in november.
i held off for eight months. we talked, small talk.

i wrote him a letter in december professing that i was still in love with him. that i was wrong all along.

sometimes time does heal all wounds. my heart was broken, but he was miles away.. i had to give it a fair chance.
it was now february. i crossed the atlantic.
it was beautiful, romantic, everything i was looking for.

and it didn't make a difference.


it's now three weeks until he returns to our city.
the glue holding the pieces of my heart together is weakening.





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