exes

Nostalgia For Friendships Past

Nostalgia For Friendships Past

Thirty has been a surprisingly nostalgic year for me. I’ve chased the feeling with manic panic hair dye, 2003 throwback costume parties and concerts featuring my high school favorites. Alkaline Trio even catered to my sentimentality with their Past Live tour. Hell, the revitalization of this blog is probably a desperate attempt to hold onto the days of yore despite the fact that I now get my purple hair done in a salon, I can’t squeeze into my clothes from 2003 and Slug started dressing like my dad.

The Ring That Triggered Crazy

The Ring That Triggered Crazy

I’m not sure how he found out. I had shattered almost every possible connection: real-life, virtual and everything in between. Unfriending, blocking, changed numbers, filtered emails, useless restraining orders. You know, the ushe. I did flash my engagement ring to a mutual acquaintance after a few adult freeze pops (delicious, bastards) had loosened my lips one summer day a few weeks after the question had popped.

Blocked & Breakups

I thought when my relationship ended, so would my writer’s block. Well it never really was writer’s block, just more respect for the individual I was sharing my days with for awhile. But it seems to have just gotten worse. Maybe it’s because it’s not really over for me yet. (Yes I know. I’m stupid, crazy, deluded, enter similar adjective here.) Maybe I just need time to decompress. Whatever it may be I’m going to force a post in hopes of restarting the rusty word processor.

Strange Encounters of the Hot Mess Kind

I didn’t think I had it in me, but apparently I possess the ability to crumble into a steaming pile of spaz with merely a glimpse of a guy I dated for a few months so long as that glimpse also includes an impossibly skinny brunette. There was a time that I dreamt I had more dignity than that, but I was wrong. Because today a poorly timed siting at Rainbow Foods just completely ruined my shit.

My Zombie Ex

My Zombie Ex

After three years I like to think that the ghost of my former fiancé would stay where he belongs, deeply buried in a past life I only revisit when I come across the aborted remnants of the wedding that never was in my parents’ closet. (Which is how chapter 13 of my biography would start if the tragic Zelda Fitzgerald were to write it.) Yet he seems to keep popping up as though he were a mole in a perennial arcade game. The most recent manifestation of this romantic apparition occurred a couple of weeks ago when I received an e-mail informing me that he would be in town and would like me to meet him for coffee. A response was not required. I simply had to show up so he could apologize (again). Oh and he left me with this loaded song to ruminate on in the interim (subtle no?).

The Grand Mea Culpa

I recently received a lengthy e-mail from my former fiancé, expressing his earnest apologies for his role in an atrophying relationship that served to chip away at my happiness and ultimately my very identity. I’ve received apologies from him before but, as he stated, they were not entirely sincere, most often peppered with buts and justifications. He was sure to explain that this act of contrition was in no way for his benefit but only for my peace of mind. I have pondered if this is truly the case.

The Issue of Friendship

For as long as relationships have been ending people have tried to remain friends with their exes. This has never been easy and very seldom has it ever been successful. Why do people feel the need to remain friends after a relationship has run its course? Is it because the dumper is trying to make it easier on the dumpee? Is the dumpee trying desperately to hold on to the relationship they never wanted to end in the first place?