My easiest relationship was the one where we didn't love each other. He was the first man to ever give me an orgasm. He was also the only man that I have felt truly safe with because I knew he would never hurt me. I knew that he didn't love me, didn't want me as a girlfriend, and was not the right man for me to be with romantically. I did not have to worry about falling in love with him, being cheated on, nor did I need to worry about him lying to me. He was honest with me in a way that was brutal yet somehow appreciated anyway. He was the sort of man who would come over to sleep with me and then afterwards, call up some other girl he was dating. Oh yeah right in front of me too. Never mind, I guess he wasn't honest after all considering how he didn't tell me about her until after we were done. Maybe he didn't think it would matter to me. I never asked because he didn't like to answer questions about himself. He avoided answering the questions that I asked him, but he was always interested in me and what I was doing and thinking, how I was feeling, which I never really answered either. I'm not really sure what was up with that.

To this day I don't know if he ever really cared about me in his own screwed up way. When I started dating my current boyfriend, he would call me every few months wanting to meet up. I said no because I didn't trust myself around him. With each call, he would ask me if I was single yet. He would then tell me a story about how he saw a girl on the street that looked like me but he wasn't sure if it was me so he yelled hello or honked at her to see if it was me. It never was me. I don't know if he told me those stories to make me think that he cared about me, or if he told me those stories because he cared about me and didn't know it. I don't know why I even care about what he thinks of me. There's just something about unfinished business I guess. He sent me an email a few months ago and I ignored it. I just don't know what to say to him. I understand intellectually that he never respected me, but there's a part of me that wants him to. Who doesn't want to be respected?

So I sit here thinking about it, wondering if it's bad that I'm thinking about it. I'm with someone else, someone who is good for me. It's hard to get over someone that I had a screwed up, on-and-off relationship with for five years. It has been two years since I've seen him. I don't know why, but every once in a while I think of him, and I wonder if he's gone for good.