Single. And Getting Dragged Back In

One of the best first dates I’ve ever been on was to a sushi restaurant. I had never tried sushi before, and it ended up becoming one of my favorite foods. I ended up dating that boy for three years. And in those three years, our lives became increasingly intertwined. We were already in the same honors classes, we both played soccer, we both wrote for the school newspaper. We fit into each other’s lives so perfectly.

For three years, we got along perfectly. And then we broke up. It was the most painful thing I have ever experienced. Some people eat after I break up, I couldn’t bring myself to eat. I was nauseous all the time. I lost almost thirty pounds. And sushi had never looked more repulsive.

For months after that, every time I saw sushi I thought of him. He was there every green car that drove by, every time I passed a soccer field of boys practicing. I had never been even the slightest bit phased by a break up before, so I had no idea why I was so upset. I felt so weak, so pathetic, for letting myself be so upset over a boy.

Time passed, and I gradually began getting better. It took little steps. I finally stopped crying. I didn’t have to see him anymore once school ended, and then I was able to stop thinking about him almost altogether. I started dating some other people casually, and soon I rarely thought of him. I could even eat order a California roll without a single painful memory. (Which instantly enhanced my life; I’d really missed those little guys.)

I start college, he starts college, we continue to have no communication whatsoever. Then one night, my phone rings. I look at the caller ID. It is a number that I deleted long ago, but one I still remember by heart. It’s him. I can’t answer. He leaves a message, writes me an e-mail, calls a different time. He says he wants to be friends.

The boy that was the sweetest boyfriend on the face of the planet, the boy that later transformed into the most massive jerk known to mankind and broke my heart – he wants to be friends again. At least friends. Maybe more.

My stomach dropped. The thing is, I really want to talk to him again. I like talking to him, and we were best friends for so long. We have so much in common and so much history together. But he also hurt me more than I ever thought was possible.  And I’m afraid that he’ll do it again.

And I really don’t want to lose sushi again.

I want to be able to talk to him and have him back in my life, but a huge part of me knows that that would be a horrible, self-destructive idea. I don’t know if I can, I don’t know what I’m doing or what will happen.

So what do I do?  Does anyone have any idea?