I was searching through my e-mail for an old e-mail from a recruiter when I stumbled across several e-mails which T. and I had sent to each other back when we were still together. Much like the train wreck effect, I just had to open them. What I found did make me sad, much as it would anyone else in my position, I suspect. The missives were peppered with affectionate words and terms of endearment, things I rarely, if ever, use on others. And it ached that once again, I'm bereft of these.

And I knew, in an instant, that what I felt then, no matter how mismatched a couple we were, was real. It wasn't a naive, young infatuation although I must confess, I, too, am not sure how it is I fell that deeply that quickly for T., given how different we were.

I find myself now missing something. I miss having someone put his arm around me, making me feel so safe, so secure. I miss having the feel of his hand in mine, knowing in times of distress and weakness, that his hand would still be there to support me. I miss having someone who'd hug me and kiss me goodnight. I miss having someone who thinks of me and cares for me deeply. And here, let me stress, while I miss those sensations, I don't miss the person... well, not that much.

Yes, I acknowledge that I only had those for a short period of time and that I survived for quite some time without those before that... but it's difficult to suppress these longings that have been re-awakened after having been dormant for so long.

As I told my younger cousin many years ago, it hurts all the more being alone when you've been in love as opposed to if you've never had the (mis)fortune to love someone.