the greek.

my most recent and longest term ex is a greek man.

he was everything i thought i ever wanted in a boyfriend. he was very stable, confident, smart and athletic. in the beginning, he was sweet, romantic, almost witty. would send me lyrical text messages, take me out for nice dinners, tell me secrets and stories.

i remember in the first few weeks of us dating, he had made a comment that offended me. i had told him so because i pride myself on being honest. he looked at me so deeply in the eyes it was almost uncomfortable. it was like he was trying to convince me with his soul. and he said to me, "i will never do anything to hurt you." (any of you reading who know him are probably rolling your eyes, but i swear that this did once happen, i did once believe him.

in the beginning, i thought he was perfection. sexy and strong, yet calm. we were inseparable. every day we were together. i remember wanting so badly to tell him that i loved him because i knew i did so early on. i remember riding in the car with him and singing along to the beatles. i remember him stealing my ipod because i had way better music then he did. i remember the first night he kissed me - the night of our second date. i was inpatient. i was nervous. we were flirtatious. i had told him i could throw a "mean punch!" and he told me to prove it and we were playing around, he caught my fist in his hand, pulled my against him so tightly and kissed me, without hesitation or fear. it was powerful and romantic and seemed to last only a few short moments. that entire night we kissed, over and over and over. we never stopped. it was perfect.

a week later we were official and i was hooked. a month after that we were driving up to new jersey to meet my family. i was so certain that he was the right person - so confident and untainted, so lost inside his humor and smile.

we started dating in february, for the summer i moved back home to work - and that meant living him behind. it was heartbreaking. ten long hopeless days later i drove to his house, anxious and excited. we kissed outside my car and it was beautiful, steamy. we went inside, made love almost immediately and than suddenly he said it. he said i love you. and i melted. that small moment was a moment that i held onto so furiously that i denied any existent negativity brewing.

over the next year and seven months, we kissed, we laughed, we fought, we cried. there were so many bad moments. so many fights. so many tears. and yet we stayed because at the end of every dark moment there was our glimmer of light, of hope. after all, we loved each other. thats what the movies teach us - love isn't supposed to be fun or easy, it's supposed to be hard right?

eventually he had enough. we both did - i just liked torture better. a month before leaving for italy he broke up with me, i crumbled for a moment (three days to be exact) and then i moved on with my life. decided not to just date the first handsome, sexy, smart man i meet online.