Facebook Friending an Ex?

When I was sixteen, I fell in love: crazy, obsessive, can't-live-without-you love. Then I got cheated on, and dumped. Because of the state of my life at the time, I lost it. In my mind, everything I ever had or loved was gone. He was the only thing I ever wanted, even with all of the evidence I had that told me I deserved better. And today, I am still only steps away from that feeling of wanting him, because he was a part of me, and that part is still missing.

He called me "Pumpkin" when I wore an orange sweater ( Note: I love endearing nicknames). He called my mother "Crazy" because she was. He dropped everything when I needed him, and called me on my shit when I was a jerk, and I was a jerk to him more than anyone else. He didn't let me step all over him, and for that, I am grateful. He sent me poetry and hated Jimmy Buffett. He thought I was beautiful, all the time. He loved me, and it was the first time I believed that was possible. He did all that, and then he threw me away. We never really spoke again, until yesterday.

When he was nineteen, he was a poet. Today, his facebook page says, "If you're not wasted, the day is." It was pretty hard for me to imagine the two of us having an adult conversation.

And then, out of the blue, we did. He came over, partook in a uniquely uproarious dinner, put up with the drunk antics of three grown adults, caught up with me on our twelve years apart, then left at 1am, and I was already missing him as he drove away.

"You're mad at me for not being a douchebag?" he said.

"Yes," I said.

"Why?"

Because then it would have been easier to throw you away.