You & Me/Him & Her

It's exactly one year ago today that I met you.

Actually, I'm lying; I don't know who it was that met you that evening outside Wrigley Field; I haven't seen her in ages. I've been thinking about this day for so long, it seems. I've wondered what it would look like, how I would feel, would I even remember? And now that it's here, there is a sense of accomplishment. It's like the universe reminding me- hey, look at what you've done without him! Look at who you are know!

Even when I groaned at my phone the other morning, slowly connecting the dots from the night before (Point A: Shots of Fireball which led to Point B: Texting you at approximately 1:46 am stating "hey.") I wasn't mad at myself. I wasn't thinking about how pathetic I was for reaching out or how surprised I was that you replied and wanted to start a conversation. I was thinking a lot of things, but none of those.

Mostly, I was thinking about how your responses didn't belong to the wonderfully inflated version of you in my head. They belonged to someone I had no feelings for- no pain, no animosity, no longing. Someone with whom I had no connection, no chemistry, and hardly anything to say. It was like Christmas came early.

But you should know: you changed me. Noticeably, and unexpectedly, and in more ways than you'll ever comprehend. All because you built me up to my highest high, then dropped me out of the sky without a parachute in sight. And (without sarcasm) I can't thank you enough for that fall; I wouldn't be the me that  I am today without it.