Anticipating

One more day.
One more day until I move into my apartment with my three fabulous roommates!
This is going to be a great year...

It's really not worth all this

Two people who figured out that they shouldn't be together can still be friends, I believe. Just at a less intense level... more of a casual friendship, none of the soul-bearing, hugging stuff.
But then, just as I've become convinced, I remember his look, those eyes, that smile. How can I not react to those luminous brown eyes? Or that smile that always destroys all my carefully-crafted resolutions? How can I not react? Please tell me.
How can I possibly refrain from flashing him a giant smile when he looks my way? From bantering with him the way I used to, back in the day when I had the hope that we could be together? I don't know how NOT to flirt with him. Yikes.
I STILL have a long way to go. I can't believe this.

I think I want kids right this very second... well, not quite

The little boy bobbed and flailed his way through the warm water of the pool, enjoying the buoyancy his lifejacket afforded him. Periodically, he would call out to his dad, a dark-complexioned forty-something reclining a few chairs away from me.

"Daddy, watch this!"
"Daddy, come into the pool with me!"
"Daddy, I'm cold!"

He swam to the edge of the pool, and his pudgy hands clung to the concrete sides.

"Daddy, I love you so, so much." There was an unabashed honesty in this simple expression of love that was a little astounding to hear from one so young (he couldn't have been more than four years old).

"I love you so, so much, buddy."

"Daddy, I love you so, so, SO much!" His voice escalated in intensity, and he smiled at his dad.

"And I love YOU so, so, SO much," his dad replied.

"I like it when you take care of me." At this statement, the little boy seemed a bit more hesitant.

His dad chuckled, clearly amused but touched by his son's declarations. "Well, I love taking care of you, buddy."

At this point, I couldn't suppress the wide grin that had been inching its way onto my face. This was just too darn cute.

Seconds later, the little boy pushed away from the wall and resumed splashing and playing in the water.

More musings about him

It's been two months. Two long, heart-healing, agonizing, tearful months since I last saw or talked to him. I have to fight the daily urge to contact him via facebook--to "poke" him, send him a quick comment, show him that I'm still alive and thinking about him.
School starts two weeks from tomorrow. The butterflies in my stomach are already going strong. What will I do when I see his handsome, sweetly familiar face for the first time in months? Part of me says that I will reservedly walk up to him and engage him in polite conversation. Another part of me says, "who are you kidding, Monica? You're going to barrel him over with an affectionate bear hug, scream, sigh, smile effusively, and barrage him with questions and exclamations." The former is excruciatingly painful to think about. I have never been one to be reserved around him; I was always exuberant and dramatic around him. Yet, the idea of hugging him and acting like nothing ever happened between us is painful in its own way. I can't pretend that we haven't been talking to each other this summer. I can't pretend that I don't still love him ardently. I can't hold back the overwhelming feelings that rush over me whenever I so much as catch a glimpse of his face. I can't--and shouldn't--try to resume the "buddy buddy" relationship we once had. Those days are over.
Now I understand why it takes people sooo long to "get over" someone they love.

Giggle

I dressed up today. I dressed up in a black "teacup" dress with a red sash tied around my waist. I wore high heels and felt like a princess. There should be more days like this one.

What to do?

Here's my dilemma. Before he and I talked about becoming romantically involved, we were just really close friends. I enjoyed the camaraderie and the playful fun we had at each other's expense. I also really valued the meaningful talks we had about God, life, our respective futures, etc.
A lot of that lightheartedness was lost when we added the "should we date or not" question. Suddenly, everything became a lot more complicated, and stress, worry, and rapidly increasing affection for him built up until I could hardly see straight. This was no longer a simple friendship. Embarrassment, awkwardness, and confusion were now present, and it was difficult for me to relate to him in the same way. At the same time, I was incredibly excited at the thought of being his girlfriend. All of these feelings--excitement, confusion, restlessness, concern, etc.--continued through the school year (since our relationship was in a sort of limbo for months on end), and only just started dissipating a few weeks ago.
For the first time in a year, I experience feelings of calm, assurance, and--just today--contentedness when I think of him. I've come to realize that I don't want anything more than a friendship with him, due to various reasons having to do with incompatability, maturity level, and disapproval of habits. I only want to be his friend, to experience that old camaraderie without the heart-wrenching complication of romance.
However, we are technically ex-boyfriend and girlfriend. I say technically, because the time we were together was so short and inconsequential it should hardly be considered a relationship at all. Yet, the fact that we were together at all somewhat inhibits things, at least from my end. Once I've had feelings for a guy and acted on them in any way, even for a short time, it's incredibly difficult for me to take a step backward and resume a non-romantic, casual friendship. A few months ago, I would have said that my love for him was what prevented me from doing that, but now I realize that is not true at all. I love him dearly, but if romantic feelings for him were entirely absent, I could easily remain friends with him and nothing more, despite the fact that I love him. I just wouldn't like him like that. Oh how I wish that were true.
But I see no way to accomplish that. His smile will always make my knees weak at least a little, his laugh will always enchant me, and his touch, however slight, will never cease to send shivers down my spine. That's just the way it is. The most I can do is pray unceasingly that God will free me of my feelings for him.