I went to Manhattan for the weekend for my best friend's birthday, sans-boyfriend.

It was my first night there. My friend and I are talking, her roommate is on the phone with someone. Her roommate asks what bar we are going to tomorrow, my friend tells her. Then she says, "Wait, who are you talking to?" She is talking to the Dominican. THE Dominican. My friend screams, "NOOOOOOOOOOO!"

My friend gives a lecture about inviting people without asking, while I panic silently. Later she says, "Did he know you were coming this weekend? Because I literally never see him. You're here for 2 hours and suddenly, he's coming to my birthday party." We laugh it off.

I'm sitting in a Parisian whorehouse looking bar, and a friend says, "Hey, it's that guy that went to school with us!" and of course I knew it was him.

He came over and sat on the table in front of me so he could talk to me. He just kept saying, "It's been so long." We tried to make small talk, but I am not good at this any more. I am not the social creature I used to be, and I don't know how to be faithful, which makes me unsure of how to behave. I worry about being too friendly, because I am no longer aware of what constitutes flirting, and for the first time in my life, I care about someone else's feelings. Because I was not as animated as I used to be, he looked at me like he was begging and said, "Talk to me." I asked, "What do you want to talk about?" He said, "I don't know, anything." So I tried. We talked a little, about nothing in particular.

Later, after a drink on an empty stomach, I was feeling much more like myself. I realized that I kept looking for him, and I kept hoping that he would come over to where I was sitting. I concluded that this was silly, so I got up and walked over to him. I acted like myself, I wasn't afraid of the friendly/flirting line. I just acted like myself, and it was nice.

It was loud, so we had to stand inappropriately close to talk into each other's ears. Sometimes he would put his arm around my waist, or I would put my hand on his arm or chest while I talked. It felt wonderful to be myself and just act natural, especially with someone so familiar. I still don't know what is appropriate, or where, exactly, those dangerous lines are. But it was nice not to worry about it for a night. Being in a monogamous relationship has made me realize how truly dysfunctional I am.

We no longer required small talk. He told me he feels like he's in the wrong place in life, like he isn't living the life he had hoped to live when he first came to America. He has a great job, all suits and dollar signs and late nights, and he's miserable. I asked him what he wanted to be when he grows up, and he laughed, and said, "I just don't know anymore."

Talking to him was so nice, it's hard to believe that I ever let him out of my life. We haven't talked, really talked, in almost 3 years. Our last real conversation, the last time we really saw each other, must have been September or October 2009. Talking to him was so natural and so comforting, how can I have spent so long more or less content without it?

He told me, "Please keep in touch." I asked why. He said, "If you ever want to talk." And I said, "What do you want to talk about?" He laughed, "I don't know. Loving life, hating life."

Later he asks me, "If you could go back to Freshmen year and do it all over again, would you?" I didn't know how to answer. I just laughed and said, "Uhh.." He said, "No, don't think about it. Right now, yes or no." I said, "..Maybe." He laughed, "Maybe?" I said, "Yes, maybe. And you?" He paused, "Maybe." We agreed, maybe.

The thing is, I lied. The way that I have been feeling lately, I would go back in a heartbeat. What is wrong with me? The answer is yes. Completely, totally yes. I would go back over and over, even if I wasn't able to do anything differently.

The way that he left - no goodbye, just looking at me with that nervous expression while his friends urge him out of the bar - it reminded me of the way things used to be. And it made me realize, that probably, nothing will ever change.

When I got home on Sunday, my boyfriend was not nearly as excited to see me as I had hoped. He kept saying he was, but I didn't feel it. The last time I came back from New York, after only one night, he was so deliriously happy to see me. This time when I've been gone all weekend, he acted like I never left. He's preoccupied with the TV, the computer. I felt so neglected, and I felt resentful that I was faced with someone who makes me feel alive, and I was so well behaved. Worst case scenario, I flirted too much.

His lukewarm reaction made me want to go back to New York.