by Justine Southwick

Created on: June 16, 2009

I had a text from my ex-boyfriend/best friend last Christmas. Six months since our break-up and not a word, and I get a text? Took me completely by surprise. I'd been contemplating dropping a Christmas card off at his place, because Christmas without him seemed so weird. I still didn't know if I wanted him back in my life but the holiday didn't feel right without him. I was feeling like I'd healed enough to make the first contact after all this time. Even if nothing came of it I felt like I was ready to be the bigger person.

I thought a card might be the way to do it friendly without begging, nice without necessarily stating I want him back in my life, and non-committal so he could in no way freak out. I hummed and haahed about it all week, unable to decide if I should or not. He hurt me so much and part of me didn't want to even make that slight contact. So, unable to decide either way, I simply did nothing and the card didn't buy itself.

Then, while I was lying in bed reading, my phone beeps and I wonder who's texting me at 10.30pm on Christmas Eve? I should have known. It was a very non-committal text, just said he wished me a very Merry Christmas. No how are you or anything. I guess he'd been thinking the same thing as me, that Christmas is weird when we're not talking. It is a time for being close to the people you love, after all, and he's always been one of those people for me. I know he's been in my mind more this week than he has been for ages, and for that I blame Christmas.

Six months on, and I still think there's too much water under the bridge now for us to get back to how we were. Him not being in touch all this time has hurt me too deeply. I don't know if it's in me to forgive him.

I really thought I was close to getting over it all, but him popping up like this makes me realise how angry I still am with him. I hate it. I'd give anything for us to be how we used to be. I hate that he doesn't even know I've been in Asia, when last time I was there he was the person I most wanted to share it with. I hate that all the plans we had, all the memories have gone down the drain. I hate that Love Actually is on tomorrow night and I won't be watching it with him.

He and I were best friends for years before we got together, and I never thought he'd let me walk out of his life without a fight. Maybe he thought I'd come crawling back, get back in touch with him when I'd calmed down or something. But the longer this silence stretches between us the harder it's going to be for us to rebuild our friendship, and I don't even think I want to. I'm not sure there's anything there for us to rebuild. I hate him for what he's done, for the person he turned out to be. And I feel good about the decision to cut him out of my life. I'm not angry anymore, stopped being angry months ago, but I now feel a kind of resignation that this is how it is for the rest of my life now.

I've accepted that he's gone. But it still hurts at random moments, and I think it always will. I think back on all the evenings spent at his outdoor table, drinking wine and watching movies on the big screen. All the breakfasts he'd cook, always asking if I was emotionally prepared for it as he put the plate in front of me. All the jokes he'd repeat over and over again even though they weren't funny the first time. The countless nights we spent drunk and falling over each other.

I miss him so much. But sometimes there is just no going back.

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