I saw my ex for the first time in six months last week. We’d had each other blocked on social media the whole time. I broke up with him, I still believe that was the right choice at the time, as much as it hurt. We’ve both done things that have hurt each other in the months we’ve spent apart, me more so than him, I’ll admit.

Seeing him ruined the progress I’d made. It tore down the negative image I’d built up of him in my mind, the one I used to cope with the pain of being away from him.

He told me he still loved me, but too much had happened between us to be together again, or to even be friends. I agreed. He told me that he used to believe we could grow old together and raise our kids in the house we’d dreamt of. We were both drunk at the time and I just cried a lot as we talked and laughed about all we’d been through.

He kissed me on the forehead as we hugged and said goodbye. It felt so good to be held like that, for a long time, like someone really cared about me. I told him I really wished we could be friends but he said he didn’t think that could ever happen for us. He said he knew I was still in love with him, because he was still in love with me, even after all the time we’d been apart and all that had happened.

I just laughed and said I wasn’t. Of course I was lying. And he saw right through it. But right now I would give anything to be with him as we were a year ago, young, happy and in love. I wish things weren’t the way that they are.