Remember When?

Lately I find myself feeling very nostalgic.  I think it's mostly related to this time of year, because it was right around 4 years ago that I went on my first date with my ex.  

I remember him asking me to hang out via Facebook, and I remember almost ignoring the message and pretending I'd never seen it, and then saying yes at the last minute because I knew he needed to talk to someone and I felt bad blowing him off.  I remember him calling for directions to my apartment, because I live on the weirdest street in Flagstaff (it's a boulevard that is literally a block long) and no one can find it unless they've been there before.  I remember just driving all over town and listening to him talk about whatever.  I remember finally stopping at Lake Mary, and walking down to the water and having to grab his hand a few times to keep from falling, and him holding on longer than was necessary every time.  I remember him asking to hold me and sitting on a rock at the side of the lake with his arms around me.  I remember going to WalMart to buy an inflatable raft and leaving disappointed because they didn't have any.  I remember him taking the longest route possible to take me home, and him saying it was just because of the road work on the highway, and I remember having a feeling that he really just didn't want to drop me off.  I remember coming home and telling Jerbs about him and her making a comment that when I talked about him, I smiled like she hadn't seen me smile in a long time.

And all that wasn't even our first date.  Our first date was the next night, when he showed up at my apartment with a stuffed duck, a get well card, and a raft.

I really do miss him.  And it seems to get worse instead of better--I feel like I miss him more now than I ever have, when we're 2 years out from the break up and I'm fairly settled into this life without him.  It's something I just can't seem to get over, regardless of what I do.  I think I talk a big game about being over him, about not caring, and it's bullshit.  I am happy with my life, yes, and I'm doing well on my own, but I'm not over him.  I also think I put a lot of pressure on myself to be over it, telling myself that it's stupid to hang on and that I'm an idiot for still being in love with him and that after 2 years, I should have moved on.

I'm done with that.  I'm done beating myself up for the way I feel about him.  Honestly, it was a serious, real relationship, we were very committed to each other, and I'm not ashamed of the fact that those feelings are still there.  I'm allowed to feel the way I feel.  Obviously I'm not going to let it rule my life or anything like that, but still.

I want to be with him.  I know that, at this point, the odds of anything happening, of him feeling the same way, of him not having found someone else, are utterly astronomical, but I'm choosing to remain hopeful.  Because I still feel like he's who I'm supposed to end up with.  There's just something about him, about the way we were together, that makes me believe that.  I'm sure I sound like a total idiot to anyone reading this, but whatever.  I'm OK with that.