"If you had the chance to start over with someone, would you go back and meet them again or would you choose not to meet them at all"?

I saw this question in a text post on Facebook today, and I've been in a funk thinking about it ever since. We all know someone this question applies to. We all have that one person in our lives, or maybe out of our lives, that has made us ask ourselves this very question over and over. Crying in the shower, driving around aimlessly in the dark, trying desperately to pour the feelings over the keyboard of a laptop, we've all imagined the scenario somehow. How would it feel to hear someone say their name and not choke on memories? What would it be like to pass them on the street or bump into them in the cereal aisle and not even know who they were, let alone remember what they used to mean to you or what they may have done? This doesn't have to apply to romantic relationships only. As Gnash says, "Friends can break your heart too". And since we all know he's right, this means almost everyone knows and loved someone they've probably wished to erase.

Mine was one of my best friends, but I loved her, too. And I can't begin to count how many times I've fantasized about never meeting her at all. I wouldn't have to see the way people look at me when someone mentions her, with that mixture of pity and "What is he going to say?". I wouldn't count all the cars in town that look like hers and stare at them when they pass to see who's driving. I still don't know why I do that. People wouldn't come to me with details about her life through the grapevine. She would just be another person, and I would be completely unaffected by anything she does. My life would be a lot easier if I had never met her, that I simply cannot deny. I would be a much different guy. I would be able to listen to a lot more songs on the radio without feeling a weight on my chest, wildflowers wouldn't send me to a place in my head no one knows, and long drives with no real destination wouldn't feel like a tribute.

But I inevitably catch myself there. My head tells me to wish for "The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind", but my heart will always know for a fact if I had never met her, I would have missed out on a lot, too. A lot that I never could have experienced in her absence. Sometimes, on a good day, I can't help but dance in the car when one of our songs starts spilling out of my radio. Not because I don't remember, but because I do. I remember the utter joy I experienced once upon a time when it became a special memory, and for about three and a half minutes, my head is back where the happiness was. Short lived as it is, that reminder is always enough to placate me when it happens.

On good days, I almost invariably take a trip all the way down memory lane and back, mostly because I trust myself on those days to move carefully enough to avoid getting hurt on the sharp edges of the broken things that lie along the path. I remember meeting her and how it could have so easily not happened at all. I remember the snowball fight, the first kiss, and everything that followed. Most importantly, I remember how small and limited and afraid I was before I met her, and I remember watching myself change along the way into a person I didn't quite recognize, but one I found I liked much better. I have no way of knowing if she was directly responsible for that, all I know is that the two coincided.

I can't pretend the heartbreak didn't happen. I can't ignore the notebook I've nearly filled with what she left behind in my head, or the empty cigarette pack I told her I would throw away for her that I found in the pocket of my jeans months later. Every once in a while, new evidence of what I've been through surfaces, and for a little while it hurts so deeply it takes my breath away. Yes, it would be nice not to have to live within that cycle, because I have no way of knowing when it will end. Those are the days I would go back and elect not to meet her at all. On the other days, I'm less bitter. I'm able to approach thoughts of her with an air of dignity, forgiveness, and gratefulness, and I would choose to meet her all over again and milk all those good moments for everything I could. Even knowing the end, I don't think I would hold back from finding out just how hard I can love.

I truly believe that every person we love shapes us, no matter how we love them or whether we continue to love them for a long time or not. And most of the time, I don't think I would give up who I am right now just to spare myself the pain I still experience sometimes. She taught me so much about myself, invaluable things that I may not have learned without her. On the bad days I might wish I had never learned her name, but the good days outweigh the bad. I think when it comes down to it, if I had a chance to go back in time, I'd still take the hand she extended to me when she introduced herself. And I would still notice the way her eyes sparkled even though it was dark out, and the way her fingers curled under mine when she laughed. I would know exactly what I was getting into, and I would take my time on the ride. I'd like to think I ended up okay, anyways.

And as for you, on the off chance you're reading this: I'm sure you know who you are. I wish you all the happiness in the world. In "Looking for Alaska", John Green wrote "So I know she forgives me, just as I forgive her", and I know it's true. Thank you for being my Alaska.