It comes in waves, missing him. And every time I think I am okay it all comes back. I don’t know how to get away from my own feelings.

I go to school and I live my life and I get caught up in everything going on; everything is fine. And then some random night, with no notice at all, I remember the night we went to the drive-in and watched Moana and we had popcorn and so many blankets.

Or maybe I think of the time we went to Applebee’s, and we both got chicken tenders and fries. And I remember the flannel shirt he wore because I would sleep in it every night only a few months later. And it’s hard.

He made me feel things that were foreign to me. I didn’t know I could love a person like that, and he showed me love in ways I never knew someone could have for me.

I cherished every second I could look at his blue eyes, and so suddenly I wasn’t able to see them anymore. I was lost because I forgot how to live on my own.

My life revolved around him; my happiness depended on him. Without him, I didn’t know who I was.

The struggle of losing him was unlike anything I had known before. Nothing could fill the space that he had occupied.

It wasn’t for a long time, but the memories that swim through my brain are endless. I had learned what life was like with someone by my side, and then it was gone.

I was too much for him. And I don’t blame him, because I am often too much for myself.

Nine weeks passed before I saw him again. Things were okay, and then everything came back and I had to convince myself that he did not want me because that was the only thing keeping me from losing everything I had worked through.

He did not want me, and I did not need him.

I miss singing with him in the car. I miss getting ice cream in the summer and laying around the pool.

But these memories often cloud my perception of what it was actually like. When he decided college would be too hard for us and it would be better to end things before they got too hard.

The month of wondering what he was doing, why he didn’t want to talk to me. And then allowing myself to trust him again when we both decided being apart was not what we wanted.

But why did we keep going back to something that didn’t seem to be able to be fixed?

Every week at school I knew the weekend promised to bring me him. The weekends that he didn’t come home were so hard for me.

How could I possibly wait two weeks to see him? Things were not great in my life and he was my happiness. I know I was a lot, but I tried not to be. I “didn’t use to be like this,” but I couldn’t help it.

I have to learn to love without losing myself, because I don’t want to give myself away like I have before. That is not how someone should love, and it’s not fair.

I became someone that was not me, but I will also be someone different in a couple months. I learn things about myself and I will continue to grow because that is the only way to move forward.