it’s been a year since i’ve last dated someone, since i’ve last felt two eager lips pressed against my own in fervent urgency. and as much stress and grief and sorrow that any relationship can induce, i want it back. i want all of it back.

the sweetest thing i’ve ever known
was like the kiss on the collarbone
the soft caress of happiness.
“the sweetest thing”, by lauryn hill

i’m not insecure, i’m not even lonely. it just nice to have that extra reassurance from someone other than your family and friends. it’s nice to be able to hold someone’s hand and kiss their forehead without so much as a rational thought. i want it all back.

my last relationship was probably my most serious. the tumult of emotions that spilled over me was unbearable at times; as much joy as that relationship gave me, it was matched with perhaps an even greater dose of pain. nearing the end, i found myself the sole party of the relationship who still wanted to maintain a connection. my boyfriend became cold and almost resentful of that. i wanted more than he could offer. he said i was expecting too much. i didn’t think so, not even now.

i felt like his last resort, the final alternative after his friends and fun. i didn’t want to be a back-up plan for when the night went awry. i didn’t want to be just a fleeting interest. i wanted to be something that stuck, something constant and something worthwhile. i don’t ask for much, but the things i do ask for have to be evident.

sometimes i’ll be reminded of him in every single aspect of my surroundings. sometimes i won’t even think about him. sometimes i’ll remind myself that it’s been a year and that i’m still not completely over him. at that point, i try not to think at all.