Things of the Heart

How attitudes change! Not too long ago I equated The Ex to a Minotaur terrorizing people in a maze (I being the ‘people’ in that analogy). She was still interested in making up and I was thinking otherwise. Then Ailis and I hooked up and broke up. Then Pearl and I hooked up and broke up. Then I embraced singlehood, to which Ailis gave her complete and unedited opinion, but I was firm and ideological and there was probably a mad glint in my eyes so that I never saw her again. Much later, I started to reconsider whether The Ex was a Minotaur after all and I eagerly headed back into the maze hoping to disqualify my initial judgment. She turned out to be worse, sorry to say.

But this is not about my personal history. I’m trying to point out that for the longest time it didn’t bother me at all that I had broken up with The Ex. The thought rarely surfaced, and not even the multitude of her keepsakes dredged up any sentiments soever from the bottom of my heart.

Yet lately the symptoms have struck with a vengeance. Just like some movie characters become werewolves when the moon comes out, I also clam up and retreat into my darker self when The Ex appears. Probably not helping anything by such impulsive behavior, but better than venting at her, which is what I really want to do. Closure is important for things like break ups, but we reached for the shortcuts and never really faced a frank discussion squarely in the eye. It could have turned out another way but now, it is too late to turn back some of the damage. Thankfully, I don’t get opportunities to interact closely with her boyfriend Bryophyta, whom I don’t think the world of either.

The delayed reaction is the part I hate most. Which is ridiculous, because before I ventured to ask her out again for the third time, I didn’t give a real damn. Well she turned me down in favor of Bryophyta and maybe that’s what lit the inferno so now I hate her and she hates me, which I don’t mind; I want to leave it alone in the subconscious background - but the sight of her throws me into red hot rage EVERY TIME. My formula for dealing with rage – immersing myself in activity – often just means I direct my furies at innocent pastimes.

And Sister of The Ex is a real piece of work, at the head of a gang of mutual friends who are always trying to get us to reconcile. “You two were good for each other,” she insists. She’s right, but she talks a lot past tense. Going by recent events between The Ex and I, we’d be as good for each other today as David was good for Goliath.

(In the process of writing this introspective piece, I’ve half solved the problem. The key is “Out of sight, out of mind.” AMEN.)

I’m moving away. Soon. In the meantime, I’ve burnt the last of our drawings, those useless sentimental relics.