Do You Miss Him?

Earlier this evening, while having a late, unhealthy dinner with one of my best friends, he asked if I missed my ex. I didn't have to think about it too much. I do. I miss him.

For starters, everything was so easy. It was easy to talk to him, it was easy to do things with him, it came naturally. It was effortless. I didn't have to tip-toe around asking him things or making plans or doing nothing at all. We simply were. We could spend days and days together and it felt like we were doing what we were supposed to be doing, comfortable, like breathing.

For the most part, everything was simple, easy, enjoyable. We'd make plans on the spot or in advance, movies, trips, going out for drinks with friends, concerts... The summers were all about the beach and figuring out how to stay cool in my tiny little one-bedroom apartment with the AC unit that was a million years old. The winters were all about how to stay warm in my little apartment that had no insulation... We'd rent movies, read books, dance, go to the laundromat together, went to the movies, party, sex, sex, sex and a whole lot of sex.

We complimented each other. He was patient and would go along with my crazy plans and kept me collected when my scattered head was spinning out of control. I kept him entertained, loved and reassured. Beyond all that, in each other, we found that we always had someone for unconditional support, through the toughest of times and someone to laugh with hysterically later on, when things were good again.

My friend asked if I would go back to my ex. I wouldn't. I know it. Not again.

Yes, everything was good, for the most part. We loved each other tenderly. He'd been the closest I'd ever been to being in love. But things slowly started to change and his jealousy grew stronger with every new person I met. He was jealous of the time that I spent with anyone who wasn't him, he questioned me, he wanted me always by his side, he wanted me to be something I was not. I'd changed, he didn't. It stopped working out.

I do miss him. I wish we could be friends. Sometimes, I even wish I could love him like he loves me. And above it all, I miss the fact that I had someone who was truly crazy about me. He loved every bit of me, it was me, me, me. That felt so nice.

This must be a good example of how people are never truly satisfied.... On one hand, the ex was too much and on the other, now I'm getting so little... I keep thinking that soon, at any point, I'll find the balance, the middle ground, and figure it all out.



*Currently listening to La Boquilla by Bomba Estereo*