When a Life is over, the one you were living for, where do you go?
It's Troy's birthday. Four years ago today I was stuck on a bus to Minnesota next to people with dubious hygiene. I had 4 bucks in my pocket, 4 bucks for a two-day bus trip. It was such an optimistic time. The funny thing is, that considering how nasty our breakup was, I miss him. I miss talking to him on the phone for hours and listening to him do dorky things with sound files. I miss him forcing me to play stupid word games like jotto, I miss how badly he beat me at bowling. I miss watching shows I hate (like Deep Space Nine) just so I could snuggle up to him. God, I hate nostalgia.
He wasn't really attractive. He wasn't socially adept. God, he pissed off almost all of my friends. He had an awful temper. He had the worst taste in clothing. He was boring as fuck, and I loved him. With every particle of my being, I loved him. And that's not something that just goes away. I still love him, a little.
It's funny how I knew when he called me "Perfect" that it was all unraveling.
He's in Massachussetts now. We don't talk much. Our lives are separate. But he was an important part of my youth, and I'll always think of him during the fall, when the leaves change color. I'll remember the autumn in St. Paul when I believed that love really did solve everything.