I slept in, ate ice cream for breakfast, and spent this entire morning watching old episodes of Sex And The City on DVD. I got all the way up to Season 4, Episode 6, titled “Ghost Town” — the episode about facing your past relationships, when I finally had to take a break and play a little Carrie Bradshaw on my own.
God hath wrought the plague of the exes a second time. It seems whenever I’m content with my life, I send out some kind of signal that they all happen to respond to. I get text messages, emails, notes on MySpace again. I mean, there are no hard feelings, but a couple of them have to be real pieces of work to try and dig up some kind of connection again. And I’m a little confused; am I really that unique and special, do I just have a tendency to date guys who can’t let go, or is this the kind of thing that happens all the time to everyone?
Now I know, once and for all, what happens when you try to resurrect a relationship. If things don’t work the first time or the second time, it’s unlikely they’ll work the third or fourth or fifth time. My ex from over the winter, last summer, and five years ago, is smart enough to know when to leave well enough alone. As for these other guys…
There’s only one whom I feel is on my level. It’s been six years since we’ve met, we’ve spent all of that time in between overexplaining our issues and where we were coming from, and I wasted all this energy still being hurt about what happened, and finally, last year, we both gave up. He gave up all those words, told me everything I needed to hear for six years, and I gave up being so angry. Like I said, if things don’t work the first or second time, it’s better to just let sleeping dogs lie, but we could be cordial. Hell, we could even be friends.
The others, not so much. It’s not even worth my time to get into it, but in the words of Samantha Jones, “When I’m done with them, I’m done with them.”
And I know I established a moratorium on these, but the only guy I give a damn about — possibly the only one I’ve ever given a damn about, just slips further and further away, and I’d be surprised if he still remembers who I am at this point. Every time I get online, go to the newsstand and flip through a magazine, peruse the DVD and CD racks at Target, it’s some new reminder of how worldly he is, how much love he gets all over the globe, and how uninterested he seems to be in mine. If I can’t go back to being cool with just being the jump-off, how can I just at least learn to let this one go?
