To address it chronologically then....
I entered a local art contest, for which the big meeting at which winners would be announced and the music contest held was this morning.... Leigh was one of the music contestants... His mom was there...
I hadn't known until then just how much I do like Leigh's mom. What it really is is that she's a direct Lily surrogate, I'm sure. But when we met at the art thing, we greeted each other warmly, and embraced, and suddenly I was all weepy and tears falling out of my face and very surprised at how emotional I was getting.
At about that point we discovered that one of my art pieces had been removed from display because of a question as to the legality of the material. One of the judges, apparently, was quite convinced that I could be charged a thousand dollars or more for possession of parts of an endangered species. I happen to know that the barn owl is not an endangered species, and besides which, I didn't kill the thing, it didn't die for my art - it was hit by a car.
Anyway, everyone thought I was crying about that, which is pretty stupid, because it wasn't at all a big deal; I wasn't even disqualified from the contest. My family had a better idea of why I was upset, and my mom got my permission to have a talk with Leigh's mom.
She couldn't tell me what they discussed until later, when we had some privacy. Before then, the art thing ended, and as I was packing up my display, Leigh himself spoke to me for the first time since November or December. All he said was something to the general effect of 'Hi, congratulations' (even though neither of us had won anything), but I pretended, all too obviously, not to have heard. I was satisfied with the parting words we had months ago; I did not want to replace them with parting words so frivolous as 'congratulations on this art thing you didn't win, you did well anyway.'
Later, when my mother and I were alone in the car, she told me that Leigh's mom had told her that Leigh had been in love with me. I'm not sure I believe. I don't know. Shortly before we broke up, I told him I had for some time had, and still had at the time, a crush on him - platonic love, romantic crush, I explained quite clearly. He said, at the time, that he had felt the same way in the past, but had gotten over it and focused his attentions elsewhere. That was a day of honesty for both of us, I think. I believe his story perhaps a little better than his mother's.
But still, I don't know what to do. I don't want to speak with him until I have more certainty, certainty in regards to him and to myself. I am, though, willing to speak more with his mother, to discuss this whole business and try to learn more of what may be true.
And if it is - if he is in love with me and wants me back and all of it - I am even more lost. I don't know whether there's enough left of the 'me' that he might have loved, the 'me' that loved him friendwise and liked him crushwise. It may be too late. I don't want to hurt him, even though he's already hurt me. But nor do I want to cling at small hope and give him large hope and turn out to be unable to love him or not girl enough for him or worst of all what he seemed to me, what he professed to me to be: one who, having learned to live without him, cannot or will not go back.
I don't want this to be his tragedy instead of mine. Mine is over, I have emerged anew and near forgotten what has befallen. I have learned to live without him or her, though a year ago they were my life. Now I may be perfectly set up to be the breaker of a heart, no longer the one being broken, and in my eyes that is worse.
It's terrible that the happiest ending I can plausibly foresee is the one that is not even an ending at all, the ending having already happened, in which Leigh and I deny each other's existence and never communicate again, with him having lost his care for me and dumped me, and me hurt but building a new day.