International House of Past

I'm outside, the text read.

I went downstairs after changing my outfit. I wanted to look good but not want me back good, just I look good good - so shorts and tights didn't work out so well in the original plan. I felt good. New boots, my hair was on point, cute relaxed outfit, and I was just plain digging myself. I get in the car and say hi with a smile. We were friends now. But that doesn't mean I knew what to do. Should I treat him like I used to? What did that mean? The last time we spent more than one day together we fought furiously and the time after that I wasn't over the fact that we weren't together and were still having major arguments. Our relationship, then friendship, still managed to be quite turbulent for over a year after a break-up. I didn't know what I was doing there. Is this what friends do? Yes, I guess. I was in town, we were lovers for 3 years and supposedly we were on good terms, so meeting him for breakfast seemed harmless to me.

Through all the harsh words over the years we still were there for each other. You know when fathers had cancer and grandmothers were sick, or we were both a little lonely. We find ourselves taking advantage of a comfort zone that doesn't always reap good benefits. We had just come over a troublesome hump in our friendship - it wasn't an easy summer. And I guess we were both putting it behind us or trying to forget. I'm not exactly sure.

I must be honest, seeing him served several purposes. One I cannot discuss, because that would complicate things lol. But a year and some change after a breakup, without being able to say that I had a boyfriend during that time, made me question what I felt for him. I thought about why we broke up. And no I wasn't thinking about getting back with him, but I wanted to know how I felt about him. Was he a former lover that was now a friend? or was he friend, who was a former lover? or just a friend?

We get to ihop. We can still joke around with each other. I was probably acting pretty awkwardly. I mean, we don't see each other often. It's hard for me to get back into a face to face talking groove. But I find myself thinking about someone else the entire time I am there with him. Silently comparing the two. Realizing what my feelings were for someone else. Now, that caught me off guard. I never thought that I would have been thinking about that person that much. Then it hit me. I do think about that person all the time. It was just that here in this booth in front of an omelet I couldn't eat, I was met with the reason why I cared about someone else. No hurt, no hard feelings, no pointed fingers - but everything was so connected. I wouldn't feel this way for new guy if ex-boyfriend and I hadn't, well, exed it.

Not to mention ex-boo had changed. He just wasn't the same. He was covering something up. He seemed to have morphed into this guy who was trying to pretend that love meant nothing to him, when I thought it was something so important to him. All the girls, the watch, the clothes - I think I saw through it. Well at least I hope so. We promised each other one freshman night in his dorm bathroom that even if we ended badly we would still be friends. I can see it. Only because I can't see us together. I tried. Sitting there looking at him to see if there was a spark, a hope, a possibilty. Nothing. Which confirmed my feelings for someone else with whom the hope of a spark that would ignite into everything I need drove a dagger of fear so deep into my gut it made me want to vomit vulnerability. Okay, maybe that's a little dramatic. But this is beginning to feel that way. Why is it that we confirm the feelings we are afraid of most in our minds, we have an unbeatable urge to make them known? It's like the minute we tell ourselves we love someone, we can't function normally until they know...

After he took the omelette I couldn't finish to-go and brought me home, I felt like we both knew what we were afraid of. That those years together were just that. The past. And that we what we were doing, shaping a future post break-up, was all right. And as hard as it is sometimes, to be lonely, and frustrated, and vulnerable, and disappointed, and hurt, something better than we imagined is to come. I hope breakfast at ihop helps us always find our way.