turn the page over...

I never imagined that after a year of our break up, I would still think of him. The scientist in me is always surprised to rediscover this fact: that a person can truly be broken.

Our break up was simply a complete and utter destruction of my life. Life can be that way, eventually you have to move on. Life again, compels you. And, after all, I wanted to be happy again. So you pick up what’s left, reinvent what is not and go on.

I think the specter of our break up has changed me far more than our relationship. Away from the warm glow of naiveté, the memories of us seem trite. It is true that we only assign meaning to our experiences. Mostly, we had no fear. We talked about ourselves, our dreams, our childhood, and our parents. Each discussion was a wonderful opening, with no fear of what we might discover or lose. Every fact, every feeling shared was a precious thing to be cherished and savored.

I know now that our relationship was far from being perfect. I know what he has done with his life, and what I have done with mine, and logically, I understand them to be incompatible. What I really miss in me that didn’t consider such things.

I see him in dreams sometimes, we approach, we talk, and we are never lovers. That makes me happy. But above all, I forgive him. Despite the thought that I can never forgive him or even forget what he did. He was not perfect, we were not perfect either. Its just that he was once my life yet now, I must move on and consider things that he was just now a one-paged chapter of my novel. (december 2007)