Ex #2

Tom was my best friend. From the first time we met we had instant chemistry.
As time went on we became closer and closer. This was why I was cautious to begin a relationship with him when we were freshmen. We talked about it after we got together and we agreed that freshmen year was not a good time. We were not mature enough to handle what our relationship could potentially grow to be. So we remained friends only.
All through my relationship with Joe, Tom was the one I turned to when I needed a friendly ear, someone to talk too. He was always objective, despite the fact that he did still like me, he never told me to break up with Joe, he always advised that I try as hard as I could to work it out with Joe. He read every "poem" I wrote, including the stupid stuff I wrote in elementary school and would say, either, that was great, I can't wait for the next one, or that's fucked up, let's talk about why you feel that way. Joe didn't really get any of that stuff, didn't really seem interested in reading anything. Tom was pretty much, everything. He's the one I credit as my first BIG LOVE. I loved Joe, but not the same way, it was more a respect thing with Joe. With Tom, there was respect as well as a physical attraction. I had no physical attraction to Joe.
The relationship was uneventful. We went out alot. Tom was an excellent kisser.
Eventually though as things go, our individual emotional baggage was overwhelming. We talked about our personal stuff alot. We talked all the time. It started to get to him, I was such a mess. Most everyone went to him with their problems. He always knew just what to say. I think he thought my problems were too big. I wasn't in a place where I had come to understand my own situation, why my childhood sucked so bad. He knew I couldn't deal, he knew he could do nothing. Or maybe we just grew apart. I was very negative at the time, about myself. I saw no future for myself.
You see, when I was a freshman, my plan was to become a physical therapist one day. Then when I got old enough I could care for my sister, Joyce who would always need that sort of care. Then on Father's Day 1993, Joyce drowned in the family swimming pool. I was totally lost. I only wanted to do the physical therapy thing for her. So anyway, I saw a big, blank, a black hole....I just wanted it to end. And to be with Tom, but he wanted something else. He had his only problems wearing him down, he couldn't carry mine. That's what he said, he had to work on his head and get it cleared, then he would be ok for me again. He didn't say at the time that it was over forever...He gave me hope, the bastard. Oh well.... It happens. I never knew if actually he found another girl and didn't want to tell me. I didn't want to know that anyway. We didn't go all the way, if that was why he broke up with me, he should have just said something, I would have...
After we broke up, we remained friends. He used the same tactic that I used, the distance thing, giving space. It didn't suck. For a long time I wished he had died because it broke my heart that he'd still be alive and not want to be with me.