[any man would be lucky to be in your bed]

It began this way: a simple exchange of two people who needed the joy of another person's appreciation and nothing more. It ended after a couple years with a million words between us, but we both knew all along that we weren't the one for each other, just the person we needed right then. I taught him that he could be loved. He taught me how to relax.

When I lost those words to a careless oversight, I figured, that is okay, I don't need to see them again. No need to retrace the steps of our dance, the movements ingrained in my heart, the moments we shared still erupt in my mind periodically. He was that huge in my life, a cosmic occurrence; I held the moon sometimes in my hands is what it felt like to go up those winding wooden stairs to his place, to sit in his room and let him show me his stuff, to exist with him.

I had to let him go.

It is hard to let someone go. Being in a relationship is a strange magic, a walking of so many lines, a crossing of the street for the other person, even when you like your side just fine. It is even stranger when the person pushes you away and pulls you toward them (yes, love is sometimes loving the unloved, love is sometimes braving the balance of yin and yang, he would not have been so alluring with all cheerful encouragements, but he never lied about the rest of it, that it wasn't me and he couldn't make any promises, I wouldn't listen.)

When I heard about them, I had to chuckle; I was part of the reason they became one, I was partly responsible for opening their eyes to each other, which I don't resent, somehow, because I see that they are good together.

Every so often, in our innocuous attempt to stay in touch, that thrill we shared in each other despite our best judgment prevails and we are buoyant and delighted. He worries about it, and wipes things away. I understand. I know what it looks like to everyone and I know it is hard to explain that just because you find someone attractive doesn't mean you want to steal them away.

He hated doing that to me and I would hate to do it to him.

So it was with a strong note of caution in my mind and a careful tone in my words that I responded to him, to that breach in our world, despite the circumstances (he was simply making sure I got what I paid for), because that is how it began, oh so long ago, and I don't want it to begin again.