Last night Emily and I sat on the steps of the compound, talking about everything that's happened with the boy and I. She posed a question that I had asked myself a few times, but had never been able to answer. She asked if I would ever give a relationship with him another go, should the opportunity arise.

The ultra-logical, common sense side of my brain said no, I wouldn't. There would be too much baggage; too little trust. Then I paused and thought on it for a moment, realizing that such a situation would be one where you can say how you would react as much as you want, but once it actually happened, there's no telling what you would do.

It's been on my mind constantly since last night. It goes well with my recent remniscent state of mind. "To good memories", his last e-mail said. We spoke a few days ago. His voice was like liquid gold to my ears. There wasn't any awkwardness. I could tell he was hurting; that it would be incredibly easy for him to pour out all his recent heartaches and struggles with depression. We talked for a little while. After we hung up, I realized, I really have forgiven him for everything he did and the pain he caused. It really wasn't that difficult. The good things he did for me far outweighed the bad. The bad are hurting him more now than they did me.

This morning I was packing. I found a bottle of cologne I got him for Christmas. It was backordered, and didn't come in the mail until well after Christmas and well after the end of our relationship. I had thought about sending it to him for his birthday. But it never happened. I also found his green sweater and t-shirt that I snagged that last week in Dallas. I knew, despite his reassuring words that things would be exactly the same, that we were coming to an end. I wanted something that smelled like him. Something that I could touch. When I found them this morning, they had fallen down between my bed and the wall.

Sitting on my bed, his sweater on my lap and the scent of his cologne waifing around me, I realized, I'd still do anything for him. I would give a relationship with him another go in a heartbeat. I would do anything to aid in his happiness, and make his life a little better.

And I realized that I still love him. As much as I did during the best times in our relationship. I haven't moved on. The searing pain is just gone. And I've come to terms with the fact that he isn't mine to love anymore. However unhappy she may make him, he chose her. That's the only change.