Realizations

I was still mildly angry.
It had seemed that just because things got hard, he had given up. And I suppose that because he had done that, maybe (even though I didn't want to admit it) he wasn't right for me. He didn't want to make me a priority, he didn't want to fight for me. I began to really notice the lack of passion in his life.
I stepped forward with both feet, jumped into everything, as was my way. That is something he had said he liked about me, and something he seemed to want to learn from. Anyone who knew me could tell you that I didn't take life lightly. I went in with my whole self, and my whole heart. I didn't like to do things half-assed. And I could see how little it ruled his life. If he couldn't care about life, how could he care about me? I knew he had a vague inclination of what it meant to feel, but I was way past that at this point in my life. I knew where I was going, and I wasn't afraid to give myself most fully.
He hadn't given up on me. I had been in his position--in the flurry of a new relationship I had gotten bad grades. But the next semester I worked harder, I did better. I knew how to balance things. I knew this was new for him, and it pained me to believe he wasn't ready to be with me. He wasn't mature enough to handle the level of commitment I was giving him. I was number uno, after all. The first girl. And that kind of sucked...
Talking to my ex before him helped. I learned he had been having a hard time as well, and I indeed had made him jealous. This gave me a little boost. If he had been having a hard time, surely he hadn't let go because I wasn't desirable. It was just because we weren't working as a couple.
I could see that he wasn't going to fight or work hard for me. So I had to give up.