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I ruined us, not once but twice. And if I were him, I'd be pretty leery of "going there" again ... I truly was crazy but didn't know why. That said, I've dealt with my issues in therapy and probably owe him an apology - if not an explanation (not sure he'd be interested) - but I almost feel like it's one of those things where it gets 'too broken to fix', and neither of us are spring chickens anymore (he's 55, I'm 46). I would at least like to try to be friends with him (not sure I could be 'just friends' though.)
He knows where to find me. I wish he knew that I wanted him to.
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