Rex's Winter's Tale
It was just a few days ago when I thinking about Asshole #1 again. I've had such pitiful luck with love since him that it has become my habit to think that I was happiest with him; but last week I was strolling down a different part of memory lane, and I reminded myself that I could never forgive him for all the excruciating pain he caused. For the first year, at least, whenever I talked about him to friends and unsuspecting listeners, I would say that I couldn't think of one goddamn thing he could possibly do to make up for it. But what if he were to say, suggested one friend, I'm truly sorry, I was a different person then than I am now? My answer was: it still wouldn't change the past, the damage was done and irreparable. And that's the truth.
About two days after I was reciting this little dialogue to myself, Asshole #1 called me, most unexpectedly. I had spoken with him briefly over the summer, mostly to get a "boyfriend exit poll" from him; it was a cordial conversation, and we agreed then that we should try to be friends. Of course I didn't follow up on it, because I thought I wasn't crazy, but apparently he thought it wasn't a bad idea.
Here's what I discovered: he's so charismatic and exciting that I felt a lot of my negative feelings toward him melt away, and it was like the first time I met him. It's true that I can't forgive him, but the fact is that I'm still in love with him, and I guess that trumps up everything else.
So against the advice of all rational people, I've made up my mind to try to be friends with him. The friendship thing didn't work the first time because I was afraid that continuing contact with him while I still had those strong feelings would keep me from moving on. So I cut him off completely, and you know what? I still wasn't able to move on! I found that I kept sabotaging myself and going out with losers who didn't have a prayer (with the exception of my wonderful Swedish boyfriend - but the fact that he lived in Sweden was sabotage enough). Why? When my mom confronted me about it, that disastrous Maui trip, I explained to both her and myself that with Asshole #1, it felt so awful to hope that it might work out that I felt better off having no expectations at all. Then this year, back when I was briefly dating Sam, the law student, I had decided that if it went well I'd marry him. Of course I was counting my chickens, but here's what was going through my head: (1) he seemed like the kind of man who would treat me well; (2) logistically, we made sense; and (3) I was never going to fall in love again anyways, so what the hey, why not do my practical self and my future children a favor (responsible husband/father), instead of nurturing the very toxic hopeless romantic in me?
In sum, NOT being friends with Asshole #1 didn't work out so well for me. So I guess this is my advance-warning apologia (the Greek word: not apology, but response/defense/explanation) to the girl friends whose good advice I'll probably ignore. I always thought I was too smart ever to be THAT friend - ie, the really frustrating stupid girl who keeps shooting herself in the foot - but like I said, I've already tried it the rational way, unsuccessfully, and now I have to try to find some other way to be happy in life. Maybe friendship is the answer, the thing that will bring me closure; after all, it's a proven fact that I'm, like, physically incapable of mixing up the friends pool with the relationship pool. And even if it doesn't bring closure - even if this friendship thing ends up being really bad for me - I think I might still be happier being around him than not.
About two days after I was reciting this little dialogue to myself, Asshole #1 called me, most unexpectedly. I had spoken with him briefly over the summer, mostly to get a "boyfriend exit poll" from him; it was a cordial conversation, and we agreed then that we should try to be friends. Of course I didn't follow up on it, because I thought I wasn't crazy, but apparently he thought it wasn't a bad idea.
Here's what I discovered: he's so charismatic and exciting that I felt a lot of my negative feelings toward him melt away, and it was like the first time I met him. It's true that I can't forgive him, but the fact is that I'm still in love with him, and I guess that trumps up everything else.
So against the advice of all rational people, I've made up my mind to try to be friends with him. The friendship thing didn't work the first time because I was afraid that continuing contact with him while I still had those strong feelings would keep me from moving on. So I cut him off completely, and you know what? I still wasn't able to move on! I found that I kept sabotaging myself and going out with losers who didn't have a prayer (with the exception of my wonderful Swedish boyfriend - but the fact that he lived in Sweden was sabotage enough). Why? When my mom confronted me about it, that disastrous Maui trip, I explained to both her and myself that with Asshole #1, it felt so awful to hope that it might work out that I felt better off having no expectations at all. Then this year, back when I was briefly dating Sam, the law student, I had decided that if it went well I'd marry him. Of course I was counting my chickens, but here's what was going through my head: (1) he seemed like the kind of man who would treat me well; (2) logistically, we made sense; and (3) I was never going to fall in love again anyways, so what the hey, why not do my practical self and my future children a favor (responsible husband/father), instead of nurturing the very toxic hopeless romantic in me?
In sum, NOT being friends with Asshole #1 didn't work out so well for me. So I guess this is my advance-warning apologia (the Greek word: not apology, but response/defense/explanation) to the girl friends whose good advice I'll probably ignore. I always thought I was too smart ever to be THAT friend - ie, the really frustrating stupid girl who keeps shooting herself in the foot - but like I said, I've already tried it the rational way, unsuccessfully, and now I have to try to find some other way to be happy in life. Maybe friendship is the answer, the thing that will bring me closure; after all, it's a proven fact that I'm, like, physically incapable of mixing up the friends pool with the relationship pool. And even if it doesn't bring closure - even if this friendship thing ends up being really bad for me - I think I might still be happier being around him than not.
posted by Rex at 3:33 PM
2 Comments:
I know how that goes. I think it's a consequence of being a girl, or just being this particular type of girl that you and I are. You can't just take back your heart, unfortunately. It's hard to distinguish sometimes between who he is and who he was, but I force myself to, otherwise it makes for no good going.
I find myself perfectly in love with someone better, someone who is the one who I'm meant to be with. But still the same time, it still makes me sad that the other one isn't in my life in some way, shape, or form. The killer is that I know that if he was back in my life, I'd be so incredibly unhappy, in the way only he could make me.
It's a stupid ambiguity.
Hey Mel! So glad to find you in my comments. So are you seeing someone fabulous now? Personally, I don't think it's unadvisable to have the old guy in your life even if you've moved on. The comparison between the two might help emphasize the point that you're not missing out on anything with the ex.
For instance, Asshole #1 could be interpreted as either "easy to talk to" - which I really missed - or "can't shut up to save his life." It was really healthy for me to be reminded of the latter.
Then again, what the hell do I know.
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