when did we stop believing.

Do you think as we get older we get stronger? Or smarter? Or more broken thus less naive? Or do we just become bitter? Cynical? Do we stop believing in fairytales and happy endings because we aren't children or do we stop believing because life's given us every reason not to believe? Are we giving up on that tiny spark of hope because we are smarter and experienced and strong enough to know that sometimes the things we desire most aren't necessarily what's best for our well-being? Or have we just given up striving for the things that are unlikely but keep us believing?
I don't know. I think this is all coming from my whole number twelve situation lately. I haven't spoken to him in about a month and it sucks because he was the center of my world for a long time and now we have nothing. That's not true, we have something; I will always love him and care for him and want the absolute best for him. But I can't help but wonder why when you care so much about someone you can't even be friends. I mean we always used to talk about how incredibly hard it would be for us to be just friends, but we decided the only thing worse than being in each others' lives would be to not be in each others' lives at all.
I have tried to explain this situation to so many people but so many people do not understand this. And I think that's what gets me. I don't see him and I's relationship as this unbelievable connection that no young adults have. That's just the reaction I get when I try explaining it to anyone. There are so many people that just look at me like, "you're seriously being ridiculous right now. Like he's just an ex-boyfriend. And YOU cheated on him". And I think that's just what kills me is that, yeah I did. But despite all that, I still get butterflies when I see/think/talk to him. And some people will say oh that's nothing, that's lust. And then I get friends that dated boys for just as long as I dated number twelve and they're like yeah I feel nothing when I see my ex. I don't hate him, but zero feelings come back. And I can't quite comprehend that. Maybe it's because that's the only relationship I really have to measure against.
And maybe I'm crazy. But maybe I'm not. My sister and T broke up 3 or 4 years ago. And to this day, she misses him. She texted me the other night when she saw him and we just talked about the fact that it's so hard knowing that that feeling might never go away. And that's the way I feel about number twelve. And I hate that I do because everyone I know is like we need to find you a new boy and you deserve someone that will make you so happy and blah blah. And I want someone that makes me happy and treats me well. I know that I see love and relationships in a fucked up way and I've tried to explain that to people but most people don't know my story, where I come from, what I've dealt with so they cannot understand despite how hard they try. The best way that I can explain it is that my parents got divorced when I was 2 years old; I don't remember what it's like to have my parents together, to see them love each other and be in a relationship. So think about how you'd view relationships if that was you.
I guess the point of this entire post is that it has seriously taken everything inside of my to not text number twelve basically every day this week. And I suppose I just wonder if it's because I'm trying to overcome my distorted view of relationships and the divine belief I have in true love? Or if I'm just growing up and becoming wiser trying to avoid something I know will bring pain? Or if I'm just becoming bitter and cynical with regards to men and love and people in general?