We parted amicably when we agreed on a break, but it seemed that he wasn't quite as okay with the separation as he had said he was. He began to call me incessantly, insisting that we meet up, bringing me coffee, writing me letters. I kept telling him that I needed space but he continued to try to contact me. I was getting more and more frustrated and all of his attention was actually driving me away since I knew it was only because he was finally afraid that I'd really leave.

The actual breakup occurred after several heated discussions on what we were doing, emotional on his part, stoic on mine. After one particularly dramatic (and somewhat embarassing) confrontation outside of the computer science building (which made me miss class) he called me from a restaurant where he was having drinks with friends, telling me that there was no point in dragging out the break any longer than we had and that he just wanted to know, right then and there, whether I wanted to be with him or not. There was a brief silence, and then I said the words "I want to break up."

"Well, you win." he said tearfully into the phone.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"If you wanted to hurt me worse than I hurt you, well, you did it."

I was dumbfounded. Here we are, at the very end of the relationship, and he was still trying to drag me down.

He then choked out the words "I love you." and hung up before I could respond.

I put down the phone and walked over to my computer where I had been killing time by chatting with Steve on AIM before the phone call.

"We broke up" I typed to Steve.

"Are you okay?" he messaged back. I sat in my desk chair, head in my hands, waiting for the tears to come. They didn't. I was a bit unstrung, and his final words to me hurt, but I couldn't cry.

"I'm fine." I responded.

"Is anyone there?"

"I'm the only one here"

"You shouldn't be alone right now." Steve messaged.

"I'm really okay." And I was. I felt like I was finished with all of my crying, I was done with trying to get over him. I hurt so much during the relationship that I had to train myself not to care when he got upset with me (which was frequent) or put me down (which happened every now and then) which had translated into me detaching from the relationship entirely.

He was the first person I'd ever loved, the first person I'd ever become that infatuated with, and also the person who had hurt me the most. Even so, I really bear no ill will towards him, even now. I learned a lot in the relationship, and I think that if he gets all of his personal issues straightened out he'd be a great significant other. Sometimes I wonder what he's doing, how he's doing, but at the same time I have no idea what I'd do or say if I saw him.

When I think of those 2 and a half years worth of drama and stress, I feel incredibly lucky to have found someone like VV. I feel like I wouldn't appreciate VV for the wonderful person/boyfriend that he is if I hadn't gone through all of that.

I'm getting sleepy now. Am waiting for VV to come to bed. For now, here's a photo from Monday. I took down my hair when taking photos in the garage and it ended up having the perfect mussed-up waviness I covet. I felt it was a shame I had to ruin those waves with a ponytail before going to the gym so I took a picture to document the momentous occasion.

Ah, vanity.