I talked to my mom last night for about half an hour over the phone. We talked a lot about relationships, especially ones she had had in college. I've never really known that side of her, that is, the young, romantic, hopeful college student.

I told her about how I feel like I don't forget the past easily. For two months I was fooled into believing that things were great within a former relationship; I never had an inkling that it would go sour until it bit me, completely and utterly out of the blue.

Surely, I've gotten over the person, and I'm not hung up on him. Nevertheless, I have distinct memories of what it feels like to be told that someone you care for doesn't want to have anything to do with you.

My mom told me that it's a trust issue; once you've had your heart broken, you're particularly hesitant to put it out there again.

It made so much sense.

I'm with someone now, and every minute I spend with him, a little bit of my protective shell gets chiseled away. It's reassuring.