Nick came over tonight to return a book that I lent him ages ago, when we first began dating. I offered him a beer, we sat (him on the sofa, me in the Adirondack chair), and caught up on each other's lives for a bit. It was . . . odd.
Part of me was thinking, "Oh boy, I miss him." Another part was thinking, "He's not that great - maybe it was right that we broke up." I guess the latter sentiment lessens the former a little, huh?
As I was walking him out, I said, "So should we have dinner sometime? It never made sense to me to give up your friendship with someone when you break up." He agreed that we should try to get together before I leave the Boston area. We'll see how that plays out, with our busy schedules.
It feels very strange to me that I made meaningless small talk tonight with someone to whom I was once so close. Look at the picture above - that was us at the end of March (not so very long ago).
After he left, I cried for about five minutes, then turned on the Sox game & started making supper. I'm tired of crying, you guys. I think it's about time to move on. Anyone have any ideas on the best way to do that?