Tomorrow is Mark's birthday. He'll be twenty three years old. Tomorrow.

To me, that is just a huge shock. I remember when he was turning twenty one. We had only been together about six months at the time. Now it's been about a year since we broke up; since I left. I feel in some way the way we are now is not how we should have ended up. I know it was better to have left, but there is a part of me that misses him every day; a part that wishes with all my heart he was still in my life.

I don't really know what it was about him that I had liked so much. I don't remember why we started dating, and I definitely don't remember why I stayed with him for as long as I did. All I remember is that for whatever brief amount of time I was with him, it felt like it was exactly where I was supposed to be.

The reason I left is simple really, but when I explain it I feel as if there is so much more I should say, I just can't ever seem to shape the words to tell our story correctly. Other people never really understand my side. They think he was a jerk and I was in the right. Although that may be true, there is still something to be said for him. I did stick around and spend a year and a half having that man in and out of my life.

Mostly it was his job. He worked for the high school I attended as an assistant coach for the baseball team. Brilliant idea, right? I definitely had not been in my right mind to think that would work, but the whole relationship I really wasn't in my right mind. I was fifteen and he was twenty when this started. He was also gorgeous. In all honesty I was just young, stupid, and flattered that he would speak to me. So I put up with his s*** for much longer than I should have. He kept me a secret and claimed it to only be due to the fact that he would lose his job, but I knew he was embarrassed of me. He had a reputation to keep up. Everybody knew his name, and I'd admired his easy temper and contagious laugh for as long as I knew of his existence. He was beautiful in his own right, and that was another problem.

Of course this man was admired by many more than me. Sometimes his admirers drew his attention and he tended to stray. I justified this to myself in two ways. One being that we weren't "official", and the other being that I wasn't sleeping with him at the time.

I remember that first time we had sex, though. It was stupid. We had just gotten back together. He was trying to improve; seeing me more often, calling every day, no more other girls. I don't know why, but I thought this time would work. Two months later I realized we would never work. I was sixteen, but closer to seventeen, and I had enough of being his dirty little secret.

At first he didn't seem all that rattled. For the next year, though, he tried often to get me back. Then, we finally decided trying to be friends was the better route. He ended the friendship abruptly, saying he wanted more than I could give due to my current relationship.

This hurt me. I don't know why, but I still had this strong desire to have him in my life. I had never been in love with him and I never claimed to be, but he had a piece of my heart. I felt that should mean something. If he had enough in common to be with me for so long, he should have enough in common with me to be friends.

So now I have no place in his life, as he has none in mine. I wish it didn't have to be this way, but it doesn't mean much anymore. I still wish him the best. I'll be sending him happy and loving thoughts tomorrow, even though they don't mean much coming from me. He will always hold a place in my heart.