Day 57 - Keith

I've been putting off writing about Keith. I feel like there is too much to say, enough memories to keep me typing for days. Nothing will do justice to his impact on my life. As I begin to shape a blog about him in my head, nothing seems to fully express what went on. The words I want to use seem melodramatic and anti-climatic all at once. I'm sometimes afraid that what I had with Keith is too strong a litmus test for any relationship that follows; that this standard will be, in some ways, too hard to re-create. I want to make it clear that I'm not pinning for Keith. I am still a little in awe of what we shared.

There were times when I felt like Keith and I defined "couple". We spent an insane amount of time together. When we weren't together, we were writing notes, drawing pictures for each other, or talking on the phone. When that wasn't happening I was thinking about him and he claimed he did the same. Together, we became ultimately comfortable. We could do anything and be happy just being together. When we had classes together, we only rarely became 'that annoying couple'; but once in the halls, our fingers automatically intertwined and our feet fell into an easy pace.

It sounds obsessive, I know that. There were times when I thought he was too nice to me, too devoted. I was afraid of the strength of our love; however, I never felt smothered and rarely overwhelmed. We didn't rush into this state of bliss and it wasn't quick or easy escaping from it either. Near the end of high school, I could see the infinite possibilities of my future. I suddenly felt like every moment for the rest of my life was somehow already planned out and I was trapped. I thought Keith was the main thing that could actually dictate my future in a way that I couldn't control, and I freaked out.

I broke up with Keith before school ended; before prom and our senior trip, before all the moments we were supposed to joyously celebrate together. It was awful, but there was this strong feeling deep inside me that wouldn't relent. It was saying that breaking up was the right thing to do. I'm not positive it was the only way to move on with my life. I had this idea that transformations had to be complete, like butterflies from cocoons.


We don't really talk anymore. After we broke up, moved apart for college and began to heal, we just stopped communicating. I mean, I know where he is and vaguely what he is doing the way I know those vital stats about most of my friends who, frankly, meant less to me. Years ago I thought we stopped talking because we weren't meant to be or because our commonalities left with our relationship, but I'm not so sure anymore. I think really talking to Keith would still hurt in a way.