WARNING: Emotional Bitchfest on the Horizon.
Has anybody else ever noticed that exes seem to come back right when you DON’T need them? It’s like they know. Like some sort of news flash goes out to everyone you were ever involved with that says, “Meg’s going through a rough patch in her love life right now. You should get in touch with her and add to her list of issues.”
Last week I got an email from the guy I dated while I was in France. This man was WAY too good for me. He was beautiful, had an accent, and wanted to move to the US. He taught me French (the French say that when you learn a foreign language by dating someone who speaks it you learn “through the tongue”) and I taught him English. Thomas (pronounced Toe-Maw) and I had a great time while I was there, but then I came home and he stopped emailing/calling. Oh well. Then, in the three years since then, he has only emailed me when I was going through some sort of emotional turmoil. When I was unhappy with Pete Young? Email from Thomas wanting to know how I’d been. When I felt like I was never going to meet anyone worth dating? Email from Thomas wanting to catch up. Time-Space Continuum issues with Jason? Email from Thomas asking what’s new with me and when am I going to be in Europe next.
Last Tuesday I told Jason I needed to know exactly what was going on. He said he wasn’t ready for a relationship. The bitter and angry part of me wanted to respond with, “Well you should have thought of that before you did the following twenty-seven things…”, but I didn’t want it to get ugly. After all, we’re going to Mexico together in 2 weeks. A few months ago, when he said he needed space and time to figure his shit out (what I like to call “the Time-Space Continuum”), I did my best to give him time without leaving him in a tough place with no one to talk to. Turns out, a person like myself can only be supportive and open and emotionally vulnerable in a world full of ambiguity for a few months before they become a shell of a person and can no longer hold a conversation without turning it to how crazy the boy in her life is. So, I laid down the law. And he can’t handle it. So I’m not speaking to him.
Not forever. I just need some time to get used to the idea of us never being together. Ever. Like, for reals. No possibility. And only after I accept that can I be friends with him and have fun in Mexico. ‘Cause otherwise, like my friend Jess said, I’ll get on the plane to Cancun with this idea in the back of my mind that once we’re there together he’ll realize/remember how amazingly charming I am and tell me he can’t live without me. To paraphrase and to quote Talia, the idea that he’ll somehow magically “Nut up.” Not bloody likely.
So I’ve been doing pretty well. I haven’t talked to him since Tuesday. Not even a text message. I haven’t cried once. And I don’t talk about him or think about him all the time. I’m starting to think I could be okay to talk to him by Christmas.
And then? A Facebook message. “I want to continue giving you the space you requested, but did think a huge CONGRATS was in order! Too awesome. Merry Christmas and drive safely!”
He congratulated me on my new job and remembered I was driving home this weekend. He also magically apologized for breaking my rule while doing it in a way that makes him look good. PLUS I still haven’t responded to Thomas’ email from last week. Now I’m totally fucked.