Day 23 - The last person you kissed

I must admit, I tried to find a loophole for this post. If we're getting technical about it, I pecked my mom on the cheek yesterday when she dropped me off at the hockey arena. But I just realized that a post to the original recipient wouldn't be as bad as I thought it would be. So ...

Hey Ben.

You've had one other letter addressed to only you. And here is another. People might think that other letters are for you but they'd be wrong. I address a lot of the topics that you'd fit in to to a group (aka, I don't write it just to one person). I just wanted to let you know that. I'm not sure if it'll make any of this better.

You were the last person I kissed. We were in the car, and I was leaving the next day to go down to Baton Rouge for winter break. I had taken my last final that morning, and had driven back to Grosse Pointe and made chocolates with you and people from your church. I guess I knew that something was up then - the fact that we wouldn't have seen each other that night if the host wasn't so understanding, as well as your hesitation to drive back home with me now seem like blatant indicators that we were going to go downhill, or already were.

I saw you yesterday. I gave you homemade marshmallows to see if they were poisoned. But in all honesty, I wonder whether we would have seen each other if I hadn't called. I probably shouldn't have, now that I think about it. But on Thursday night you seemed so insistent on seeing me. In fact, you "needed" to. But why?

Did you want to "test the waters" of our new-old friendship? Was it to ease your own feelings or something? Make sure that I was "holding up"? I could have told you that. But thanks anyways, because now that I have seen you outside of "us," I realize that we weren't all that special. That's not to say that I don't treasure what we had, but rather that what we had has run its course. And it seems like everything is gone.

I'm not going to lie: when I was in Baton Rouge, I missed you. I missed the way we would watch movies, cuddled on the couch. I missed not only my boyfriend, but also my best friend. But something (or a lot of things) has changed; when I saw you yesterday, there was no longing. In fact, there wasn't really anything. I was me and you were you. And there wasn't anything between us.

I don't mean to say that we aren't still friends. But rather, we're a different kind of 'friend.' It's been so long since I haven't liked you, it's almost a breath of fresh air to be able to say "been there, done that" to our relationship.

So I guess that's it. We'll still talk, if you want to. And if you see this and hate me for it, can you please do me a favor and just let me know? But this is the final letter addressed solely to you (at least from the list for January).

I realize now that I'm glad you still apply to this title. I really wouldn't want to have it any other way.