last love

I had the pleasure of going out to lunch today with my ex, from high school. We broke up before going to college but have remained friends and try to get together at least once when we’re in the same place. It’s always nice to be able to catch up with each other.

He picked me up from work and as we were driving to the restaurant I couldn’t help but have a thought. We were together for almost 2 years. We had been in this very position so many times. He in the driver seat; me in the passenger. It was familiar still, after all these years. But when I looked at him, really looked at him, I couldn’t remember how it used to feel to be with him. I used to love this person for years of my life and now I have no idea what that felt like. He was my last love.
When I was young, and in love, I thought I would remember it forever. Every moment, every emotion, every detail. I was wrong. I thought there would definitely be some feelings of remembering, if I really thought about it. But there weren’t.

I’m not sad or upset by this. I guess I’m just surprised. It was an unexpected absence. I don’t remember what it’s like to be in love with someone. And maybe that’s okay. I can’t help but feel like being in love in high school is worlds different from an adult love. But at the end of the day, it’s still love. An adoration for someone. An intimacy.

And I can’t help but wonder if I’ll know it the next time it does come around. Will I recognize the feeling? If I don’t will I miss it altogether? I hope not. Because I think that’s something I want to have in the near future. Even if it hurts or doesn’t work out in the end.

In the words of Carrie Bradshaw:

“I’m looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can’t-live-without-each-other love.”


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