A moment of weakness.

It's been seven months since I last spoke to Ex Boy.

Things had gotten so tedious between us, and I was growing more and more frustrated at the situation I had found myself in. I could feel us drifting from one another, and it scared me, but I couldn't imagine not having him in my life in some shape or form; after all he'd been in it for a very long time.
Feeling that we were floating away from one another, and knowing that it was 'now or never', I finally told him how I felt. Well, I say I told him how I felt, but this is not strictly true. I could never fully say what he meant to me, or how I felt for him, as some part of me knew I wasn't going to hear it back from him; and so, I held back most of the little things I'd always, really, really, wanted to say.
I did tell him I loved him, which may sound something that would have been obvious to him. It probably was. For all the years, not saying I love you was my armour, my shield. If I didn't keep telling him 'I love you', then I could forgive him almost anything, as I could pretend he didn't know; and therefore didn't know how much he was breaking my heart.
And, so, for the first time in a long time, I said it. I instantly felt my heart sinking in my mouth. I knew he wasn't going to say it back. I hadn't expected him to. Things had been strained between us for a while; for him to say it back would have been him reaffirming what we had together, which I knew he didn't want to do. He wanted to leave it behind, and, if I'm honest, so did I.

It was awful, I was so scared of losing him, of losing my memories, and ultimately, losing my love.

Crazier than anything else, was that, whilst on the phone to him I was the one who started to apologise for my behaviour over the years -when it had been me who had been cheated on endlessly, who had waited up all night for him, who had stood by him no matter what, and got so, so, little in return. Well, here I was. I was paying the price. He said I meant the world to him, and that he'd never have with anyone what he had with me. In that moment in time, I believed him. I knew the moment that I put the phone down, that I wouldn't speak to him again for a very, very long time.

Our strange relationship could have continued into infinity, with both of us finding other relationships, but always returning to one another. This option did cross my mind before phoning him and calling the whole thing off. However, I knew if it continued, I'd end up hating him and losing respect for myself, so no, I didn't go with his plea of "can't we just still see each other?". I wanted more than what I was getting, and always had done; the difference now was that I was begininning to look at other men who wanted to give me what he wouldn't; which ultimately gave me the confidence to walk away.

I'm over him, in the sense that I am no longer in love with him. Now all I feel is sad. Sad, that it's ended this way. I've remained friends with most other men I've grown close to, yet here is someone I spent so many years with, and we're unable to speak to one another.

I'm nowhere near ready to call him up for a chat, and at this moment in time I don't know if I ever will be. The thing is, I don't know if we'll ever be able to be friends. With the other men in my life, we started off as friends, and that was the foundation that the rest of our relationship was built on.
Ex boy and I were never friends. We could never keep our hands off one another. It wasn't friendly, no matter how hard I tried, he would try to push away most advances of friendship. From the very beginning, our relationship was based on lust. Pure, undiluted lust.

Anyway, it's over with. Who know's, we'll probably bump into each other soon. It's inevitable: we still live relatively near each other, well we do when I return 'home' (which is less and less).
Who knows, the next time I see him, he could be with someone else. I think I'd be okay. It may feel like someone was standing on my chest, and I was unable to breath, but that would only last momentarily.
He was not the only one responsible for it ending, or us drifting apart. Granted, he had taken most of my self confidence, but the little I did have left was telling me I could do better.
I knew I could do better than him. The whole time we were together I had lovely, decent men asking me out and showing me affection. Yet, I always ran back to him; when he was the one absolutley ruining me. Why? I don't know. I loved him. Surely it had to be more than that though? He was like some sort of magnetic force.

Towards the end, I was actually scared that I was starting to despise him. I could feel myself growing more and more angry at him. Whenever I used to say his name, or hear anyone else mention it, I would beam, yet, towards the end, if I heard his name, all I felt was hatrid.

Sad, or angry? I can't decide. Best not to think about him. As I only ever end up feeling one or the other. Maybe more time needs to pass before I remember all the amazing memories I had with him.
The last few men i've got involved with have all ended up being exactly the same as him. All incredibly interested in me, each seeming different from the last. All just wanting one thing. Strange, when I've made it clear, that I don't want just one thing.

My friends tell me that there are 'nice' men out there, and that i've just had incredibly bad luck with the ones i've encountered. I don't think I believe them; I mean, how much bad luck can one girl have? Seriously. I do pick them, or, rather, they pick me.
I have wondered if it would be easier to just call it a day, and become a lesbian. I can imagine kissing another girl (as, come on, let's admit it, we've all been there) , but anything else, and . . . no thanks! I like men too much. Far too much. When I look ahead to my future, I am stood at the altar with a man (and a very gorgeous one at that), not a woman.
Would make life an awful lot easier if I were gay though.