à la côte

I wrote it about a boy I had been dating that semester. He was a romantic with a vivid imagination that leaked through the seams of his skull and out into wavelengths that my brain eagerly absorbed. His visions were intoxicating. All of the pieces I wrote during our time together were gold kissed, romantic and whimsical; a style I had never really written in before him, nor since. It was as if I had just become a vessel for his poetry to flow through.
When I’d watch his dreams, I thought I could see them because they belonged to me, too; this was not so. I realized after I moved away and had time to reflect that I was just trying to force myself into a beautiful picture because it was more pleasant than the one I’d truly belonged in at the time. 
The truth is I’m a bit aloof. This doesn’t mean I don’t feel just as deeply as everyone else, it just means I’m much more private about it, and it usually takes longer for me to become aware of what it is I am actually feeling. This is a mixed blessing.
 It’s a handicap in starting a relationship. But because of the delay, I get to be extremely rational in all reactions to circumstances—including romance. it also gives me time to assess the situation, react peacefully to heartbreak, then respectfully remove myself from the situation to reflect and deal with my emotions correctly. In early December of 2010, certain developments came to surface that made it clear we weren’t meant to be. At the time that I wrote this poem, I’d already acted far removed from him. He was still very much engaged and didn’t understand, but I was pushing myself forward and away, as I always do. He was looking for something, and it wasn’t me. I had to face the fact that my painting might not end up that picturesque sunset picnic he’d laid out in front of me. And even though the alternative felt cold, dark and lonely, I preferred it over pretending to be someone I was not. When I realized I wasn’t the girl in the scenes, I decided to remove myself from it as quickly as possible. 

Get it over with.
Like a band-aid. 

How do I feel now? A bit confused. I felt we had had the kind of relationship that could have lead to a healthy post-break up friendship. There was no question that we genuinely cared for one another, or had friendly chemistry. We didn’t even date that long, only about three months or so. But I suppose sometimes I underestimate the degree of heartbreak I am capable of inflicting, and it didn’t help that he was already such a romantic.
Now, I have respect for him, and her. Which wasn’t easy at first, since things were once uncomfortable and a bit more dramatic than I would have liked. I like to keep things neat and orderly, and that counts for my relationships. If something starts to get messy, I wall myself in, box them out, and cut ties. I had to do this with him. If not for the sake of my own daydreams, for the sake of the possibility that I could lead him on and cause damage, or for the fact that I would jeopardize his relationship with a girl I find much more fitting of the frames I once willed myself to belong to. 
He and I were in brief contact recently. All was civilized, and then suddenly, the next thing I knew he had blocked me from communication.
But, I take it with a grain of salt.

And I think that should answer your last question.