The men in my life

Relationships, all kinds, end for one reason or the other. Sometimes this world is just too big to make it work and before you know it, you are launched into the wide expanse of wonder this life has to offer, and there you go, off to explore and to live in another crevice. Other times it can be the dramatic obvious that kills it off, like lying and cheating, yadda yadda. And then, yet again, things might just crumble. What was once young and fresh and exciting can't stand the weight of time passing by and caves to dust, silver sand beneath feet.

So many are bruised by the past. We might leave relationships scrappy and cynical, tails between our legs.

I consider myself one of the lucky ones. I've emerged from relationships with just a scratch here and there, nothing that a bandaid can't heal. And every single guy that I've ever dated is still in my life today. Well, all except one.

A few months ago I ran into my first boyfriend from high school at a restaurant in Tempe. He didn't look different at all and it wasn't awkward, at least not on my end. He sat with me the entire meal through and a few months later when he was in California, he looked me up and invited me to dinner with his family and his current girlfriend. Weird or absurdly healthy? It was good to see him and I admit: I am really proud of him and happy that he's finally grown up.

When my most recent ex and I broke up, an ex boyfriend from college who now lives in Los Angeles shot me an email. Jo, are you okay? it read. You've got to come out with us this weekend. I have a lot of really great friends and I know they will love you. He followed up with a phone call and still calls me every couple of months to check in. He has a new girlfriend now, but occassionally I'll get a random late night call. Jo, I had so much fun with you in college. I really did. Are you dating anyone now? Why are you single? I bet the guys are all over you.

Actually, no. Not really, but thank you College Ex, for that Self Esteem Boost.

And then there is someone who I consider to be one of the closest people to me in my life, and we barely talk monthly, if that--and he now lives an ocean away. Someone who was undefinable in my college years, that mysterious gray area between Friends and Boyfriend...we still talk. I still see him when he is home. We give each other advice about everything and just simply care.

And what about all of the In Betweens and Randoms that I see when I am out and about? And it's never the awkward look away or Pretend I Don't See You. Instead, it's a big hug and we might have a drink together. We introduce each other to our friends.

These are not dates. It's platonic and pure and something deeper than the average friendship.

See, when I love you, I don't know how to let go. I'm going to love you forever in one way or another. And especially if I really, truly respect you (because that's what this really comes down to) I'm going to always be rooting for your happiness. It won't just wash away, what we had. It'll become this shiny, brilliant friendship that I will treasure for always.

Just because things didn't work out doesn't mean I scorn you and wish you ill. This is how it is, so be it.

I wouldn't have things any other way.