closure

The theme of the other week in group therapy was "closure." I've been really reflective on this lately, especially in regards to past relationships.

I met Cincinnati when I was 21 years old. He had a good couple of years on me, he and I were about close as close can get, we weren't "officially together" (and I haven't been official with anyone for a good 8 years), but this was what I considered the second relationship of my adult life. He and I spent so much time together, as my sister put it, "I was just sure ya'll were in love." Save for trips out of town, for a good 6-8 months, we saw and/or spoke to each other everyday. He was my boyfriend by another name.

Of some of the endearing things he used to do were: knock twice on my bedroom window to come through following work every evening, bring in oatmeal raisin cookies from Subway because he knew I liked them, laugh at all of my dumb stories because he found me "amusing" (a high compliment coming from him), wrap his arms around me at night while we slept, wake up while I was getting dressed for work in the morning and tell me I looked beautiful, and when I needed something else -- some sexual satisfaction -- he would unselfishly give that to me too.

I was really hurt when we started growing apart. What was everyday communication broke down into every other week, then every few months, then down to nothing at all. He had been talking for years about wanting to get married - and he called my bluff - and went out and actually did it last year.

I had a hard time accepting that he never even told me he was engaged. Or planning a wedding. I knew he was dating someone, just didn't know it was this serious. Hurt when he forwarded me the wedding pictures where he held her hand at the altar and wiped a tear away with the other. All I could see was this picture-perfect wedding that I feared I would never have.

I've been thinking about him a lot lately. It used to be that I couldn't listen to an Anthony Hamilton song without thinking of him (he was a major fan with that first CD). I especially think of the laughter and comfort and good times that we shared together - at times like now when I am painfully lonely for a man's interest/touch/affection.

It was only a year or two out of my life, but I have especially fond memories of him. Now when he crosses my mind, I hope that he's happy, and I wish for the happiness that I felt with him again with someone else.