"The hottest love always has the coldest end." -Drake
If you would have asked me if I was over him, I would have told you, yes. I didn't have any contact with him, I'd suppressed all thoughts of him, and I refused to speak of him, good or bad. I was done, literally and figuratively, block listed his ass from my phone and my heart....as so I thought. And then I ran into him, a year later, unprepared, and in the most unlikeliest of places.
Neither of us are big club people, even though we have both been known to party with the best of them. So, every now and again, we allow our friends to drag us out for a night of drunken fun and barely memorable shenanigans. The other night was not an exception. After making sure my hair and makeup were on fleek, and my outfit snatched, I stepped out for a night with the girls. And in the midst of dancing and drinking, I was literally hit with a blast from my past. I don't know who spotted who first, but I do know there was enough starring going back and forth for one of my friends to finally say, "Do you know him?"
First, let me say, we both have a group of close friends that we usually hang around, however, neither of us happened to be with that group of friends that night. And had we have been with the usual, I definitely don't think that the night would have began or ended in the same manner. Low key, since I discovered that I was still resentful, it might have ended in drunken blows, or with another missed opportunity to say all of the things that should have been said long before that night.
I hadn't seen him in over a year, and our situationship had ended long before that, but laying eyes on him stirred up all of the emotions that I thought I no longer felt. It is putting it lightly to say that our situation was passionate and intense from the beginning. We fought and we f*cked, and then we repeated the cycle. We cared deeply for one another, but we didn't talk, we allowed everything to reach tipping point, and maybe assumed that good sex would smooth everything over. Drake said it best, "The hottest love has the coldest end." And one day it all blew up. He moved on, literally and figuratively... I didn't, and while it hurt, it just was, and I accepted it, and push it to the furthest realms of my mind.
And then, at the bar of this club that neither of us had ever been too, we met, again. My first inclination was to pretend that we hadn't been meeting each other's eyes and to just avoid any contact with him. But that plan was quickly nixed by a quick girl's trip to the restroom. Our eyes met, and this time, he decided to be the bigger person and initiate the conversation. It's almost ironic that in a place usually filled with ill intentions, I was able to make peace with a man that I used to love.
I didn't know that the apology mattered, I didn't realize I needed to know that he still cared, I didn't care to ever consider that maybe he had loved me too (even if I loved him more).... We shared a night, a night that I will never regret, and from that night, I gained the one thing I didn't even know I had been missing. Peace.