I think about the first kiss, the first phone conversation, the first time we slept together, the first time he saw me cry, the first time I met his friends as his girlfriend, the first time he started leaving cookies at my desk...
And then more recently I think about all the lasts. Especially this time of year where annual festivals and parties have started to swing back around. We were at the peak heat of our relationship. Now, I find myself making up excuses about being sick and not being able to attend these parties because let's face it- the flashbacks would be a tad too much to handle. Add in the free booze that comes with these things and I'd have a relapse.
I think about the lasts less, but I still think about them.
I can't remember the last time he really kissed me. But the last time we talked on the phone...I told him I needed space. The last time we slept together...he couldn't keep it up. But I know the last time he saw me cry...it was because of him. The last time we went out with his friends... they noticed he was less affectionate. And the last time he left cookies on my desk...fuck. I think there was snow on the ground.
I like thinking about the firsts more. And I get stuck thinking if I'm ever going to let anyone else have firsts with me and let them really be firsts without thinking of him. Will every kiss just end up being not his?
The biggest thing about this relationship was how much I changed when I was with him and that's obviously a bad thing since at the end I lost my independence for the sake of the relationship.
But in the other hand, while I changed, I learned about myself a great deal because of that natural comfort level I had with him. Even the little things like letting him walk me through a crowd and carry my bag helped me become vulnerable and let someone in. Which I honestly didn't think I was capable of before him.
He helped me become more comfortable with myself, especially during sex. I turned into a woman who loved the pre-teeth brushing morning sex when before with guys, I'd actually put makeup on again before they woke up. I turned into a woman who let the guy bring her coffee in bed. I turned into a woman who let someone else play on her team for once.
It's not fun to go back to being your own cheerleader especially on days where you tell yourself you didn't get out of bed because it was your choice to be a lazy bum...and ignore the fact that you just didn't feel like going through another day of trying to cheer for yourself.
Plus, my mother called me and said she thinks I should start dating again.