In the past, I've written odes of my great, important romantic relationships at their end, to memoralize them forever as well as to work through any feelings I have of regret or self-doubt...sadness, really. I generally do it before I go to sleep that night, because, generally, I can't sleep otherwise.

Last night, after Jeff went home, having kissed me for the last time, I didn't. I, instead, took a tylenol PM, assured myself I did the right thing and thought of probably something else, maybe nothing at all, until unconsciousness shut the eyes of the dead night for me.

There's a lot to say about Jeff and I in the past. I used to think about how they should make a movie of us- something I muse about with many friends, but from the screwy, comedic way we met, into the jokes of us becoming friends, the passion of when we fell in love and finally the tear-filled good-bye last night on my porch, I think he and I lend itself to a story that should be told the best. Because it's important- when you think of the stereotypical movie, people meet, fall in love, overcome their obsticles, and stay in love for the rest of their lives...or for the rest of the movie. And we all love to hear about that- true love. But true love only happens once in a lifetime, and there's a type of love that happens before hand, maybe over and over again. And it's just as important. And it's just as wonderful. And it's a story that nobody's telling.

It's the story of two people who meet in the middle of their lives, when they both have a long way to go before any sort of conclusion can be made, and they grow together, and they unload a lot of baggage with each other, and they complement each other incredibly through their support and their mutual appreciation, and above all, their love. So they make the choice to commit to each other, and they continue being good together, throughout their trials and tribulations. But they haven't learned everything there is to learn in life yet- about love, about how to make things work forever. They haven't quite got the pattern down. So they work to improve themselves, for themselves, for each other, and they go along way....but they can't go the whole way. And after a while, it becomes clear that there's something else to learn- how to let go. And they have to walk away from each other, still loving each other, still wanting to be perfect and finished, but knowing that perfection is an illusion, and the finish is a long way off.

And they embrace, on a porch maybe, in the middle of the night maybe, and they cry a lot. And they do not want to let go, feel that they can not.

I've always had trouble in life realizing what I need to do, I always thought that was the hardest part. Last night, the follow-through sort of made all the rest seem like a child's game.

I needed to get out of my relationship with Jeff for one simple reason- I love him. I can't lose him entirely. And I could feel my control letting go of me, and I know myself, and I know my past, and I HATE IT so much...but I know who I am. And I didn't want to do the horrible things to him that I'd done before. He's too good to feel the way I've made other people feel, and I'm too good to feel that guilt again.

I'm always going to love him. I just have to learn to do it in a different way.

On with it.