Eddie brings me back to sixteen

This post was supposed to be really short and to the point, but there's something on my mind that I need to get out.
I've just gotten over a bout of the flu (or something like that), and it's like 3am on a Sunday night/Monday morning, and I still can't sleep. I'm laying on the couch with a cup of tea (chocolatey chai of course), and I'm listening to my music. I know everyone says this, but music means so much to me. It evokes things in me, memories, thoughts, ideas, images, scenes, everything, that I never thought possible. A song will remind me of a moment in time that had been hidden away in the farthest corner of my mind. It'll make me dream up these beautiful scenes of wonder and drama and heartbreak that I can then put down on paper. So here I am, 3am, just... just breathing I guess. And Pearl Jam's "Black" comes on. 
Before I get to the point of my Pearl Jam story, I should say something. The last five years of my life have been the most wonderful, scary, and horrible of my life. I know that doesn't make any sense, but it's changed me in so many ways. Four of those years were spent erasing everything I was. In four years with that man, I lost so much of myself and my life and who I was - not necessarily just because of him, but just because. After I left him, it's like I had nothing left of me. I forgot what made me happy, what I wanted to do, and what was important to me. And then I got sick all over again. It's like I had to completely rebuild my life. I got a new place, a new cat, a new hairdo, and then finally a new outlook on life (cliché, I know). And after all this time, all these years, I'm finally laying here, and I feel more like my old self than ever. I remember everything now. And I just feel so wonderful. I'm happy.
And now, back to Pearl Jam. Besides now, one of the happiest times of my life was when I was sixteen. In a way, it completely sucked because that's when I was diagnosed with Crohn's, but in another way, much like now, it made me completely re-evaluate my life and figure out who I was. When I got sick, my priorities changed completely. I wanted different things. I got so much older in a matter of weeks. And though I had experienced great friendships and great "loves" before, someone would come into my life who would stay with me, though not physically, for a long time. He's stayed on my mind for a long time, still now, because not only did I learn a lot from him, and not only did I have a wonderful time with him, but what happened between us would shape me in more ways than I thought possible.
There once was a boy named Troy. We met while I was in the hospital, one of the first times I got admitted. He was visiting a friend of ours, and we all hung out for a bit. We found out that we had the same birthday, just a year apart. I found him so cute. The most amazing green eyes you'll ever see. (And for the record, he had a really beautiful body. I used to call him my Greek God.) I'm not really sure how it happened, but we started hanging out. Then it turned into dating. It lasted a couple of months. There was one time when I was in the hospital for awhile, Troy came to visit me every day and spent as much time as he could at the hospital. But then I broke it off. I got scared. My body was going through some horrible changes from the meds and I just... I hated myself a lot. I felt so ugly, and weak for being sick, and I didn't feel like anyone could love me. But Troy and I remained friends. He kept wanting more though; he never gave up on me.
In December, (about four months after the break-up) he told me loved me. I didn't understand. How? Why? But it made me feel good. And it made me realize what an amazing person he was. To wanna be with such a broken doll, he must've either really loved me, or just be plain crazy. So on New Year's Eve, I kissed him. And we got back together. And you know, I've been on a lot of dates, and have a million memories with a million people, but some of my favourite are with him. There was one day, during the summer, I can't remember why, but his Dad had some kind of scaffolding in front of the house, so for some reason, Troy and I climbed it and sat on top. His house has this amazing view of the Restigouche river and the horizon on the other side (well, Quebec really). We were just talking and all of a sudden, we noticed that across the river, there was this huge storm cloud above a part of Quebec, and we could see the rain pouring down. It was so beautiful. The sun was setting and the sky was this gorgeous coral red, and we just sat there, holding hands, watching as the cloud moved over Quebec and the rain kept falling. Another favourite memory is one night when his parents were out of town. Troy said he had a surprise for me. He brought me into the bathroom and he lit some candles and filled the tub with water and bubbles. I won't go any further into details because it gets a little x-rated after that, but it was such a beautiful night. Pure romance like I haven't really had since. Afterwards, when we were laying in bed, we could hear the rain pounding against the window and the thunder just growling in the distance. I'm not saying everything was always perfect; everyone has fights and arguments.  But my relationship with Troy was more like something out of a book, a fairytale. I've had a lot of great relationships in my life, but they weren't like that. One ended in rape, one ended in my losing a best friend, one ended in me losing four years of my life... And Troy and I ended too. Because I was an idiot, and didn't realize what a great thing I had.
Our grad year, I did something really stupid. And horrible. I cheated on him. With his best friend. (I would like to state that I did not sleep with this best friend however, not that that makes it any better.) When Troy found out, he came to my school, knocked on the door to my chemistry class, and I came out in the hall to talk to him. The look on his face broke my heart. I could see that what I had done had just completely shattered him. And I didn't know how to pick up the pieces and fix them, but I knew that I wanted to. So we talked. And he said he'd try to forgive me and we would work on our relationship and get past it. We went to prom, we graduated, we both moved away to college/university. But we stayed together. I was in Fredericton, he was in Moncton. He'd come visit me as often as he could. (I couldn't really visit him, as his place didn't allow overnight visitors.) And then, to tell you the truth, I honestly don't know what happened. I don't really know what I did, but I do know that I broke his heart again. I met someone else, life in Fredericton was new and exciting, and suddenly, I forgot who I was again and who was important to me. So Troy stopped talking to me. He was hurt and angry and I don't blame him. Not one bit. I was horrible to him. He didn't deserve any of what I did to him. And I didn't deserve him.
Six years later, I messaged him to let him know that I do still think of him. Especially after everything that happened with J. Ironically, J cheated on me with my Best Friend. I guess Karma really does exist, doesn't it? Every time I hear Pearl Jam, I think of Troy. He's the one who got me into them. And Pink Floyd. And Incubus. I used to lay on his basement floor and listen to him play "Talk Show on Mute" on his bass.
He messaged me back, which made me happy. I'm glad he's moved on and found someone who makes him happy. He deserves it. I know it took him a long time to get over what I did to him, but I'm glad he's found it in his heart to forgive me. I hope he knows that he did mean a lot to me, and that I will never forget what we had. I hope he knows that I really did love him, even though I never really showed him or told him how much. I don't have much left of him: just a couple of pictures, a pink corsage, and an Eagle drawing he did, but I should still thank him... for giving me some of the best memories I have.
This post has gotten way longer than it was supposed to. I don't really know why I rambled on like that. Maybe I just wanted to remind myself that it's okay to be happy again, just like I was when I was sixteen.