The Prince of Darkness

In college I dated a guy Ms. T fondly (not) named the prince of darkness. POD and I dated for about 2 years, off and on. Their was a period he went to study in Africa and then moved to NY for an internship after graduation. Anyway, he was a note leaver. Very romantic in hindsight but felt suffocating then. If he left the house before me he'd leave me a note by the bed. If I left before him, when I got home from classes I'd find a trail of notes on fall leaves. This wasn't an everyday thing, but probably once a week I would find a note (unless he was a bit depressed, then no notes).
What has brought all this up you might ask? Well it has to do with Shell Silverstine. I taught a lesson on rhyming rhythmical poetry at the Academy yesterday and pulled The Light In The Attic out of a box in my office. I don't know how long its been since I looked though it. But there admits the funny tales, was a POD note. It was dated 11/30/02. We had just finished Thanksgiving at my house, I would later fly out to Chicago for Christmas, a few days after him and even less days after his childhood dog died.
In the note he was thanking me for sharing Thanksgiving and "letting (him) see my life" and wishing me luck in the future as a teacher. "soon you will have your own classroom and they will be calling you Mrs. Urban."
I am not nostalgic for that relationship. We weren't right for each other, but I wish I appreciated the little things then, 'cause they don't happen as readily when you get older. I wonder if what I learned from that relationship stuck. What did I learn then that is "helping" me now?