So not that long ago, okay, it was likely more than a month, I saw … THE EX.
(Insert melodramatic dun,dun, dunnnh)
It’s not like it’s easy. He lives a 14 hour or longer drive away from me.
I was under the impression that when we broke up clear lines were drawn, he was to stay on the American side of the border and me on the Canadian.
I thought he understood that when I said please don’t email me again, I meant it.
But, unfortunately, or maybe with hindsight it was fortunate, he decided to email me to let me know he was coming through town with some old friends on holidays.
Naturally I couldn’t ignore it — that would have been rude. And I couldn’t respond with, ‘what part of please don’t email me was unclear,’ because then I would have sounded bitter or angry, of which I am neither (anymore). So I did what everyone told me not to do.
I agreed to meet him at some point during his trip.
Then I set about making myself busy, but not too busy, so it wouldn’t be so easy.
He contacted a friend about getting her to cater a meal of us. She told me about this query, which then made me want to see him even more, because I was dying to know where he thought this might go.
I had little butterflies in my stomach when he called, so I didn’t let him pick me up, instead meeting at the coffee shop.
I walked into the café a fashionably five minutes late and there he was, at the counter.
He turned to me and I felt …
Nothing.
No, seriously. I was prepared for anything, but there was nothing. There were no lingering feelings of romance, not love, not anger, not sadness, not frustration and not even hurt.
We briefly hugged, sat and talked for about an hour-and-a-half about inane and random things, his brother’s friend, his sister’s move. Nothing about his job (or lack thereof) and nothing about our relationship (er, or lack thereof).
Honestly, when we said goodbye and after he said he’d be in touch on the trip back (which he wasn’t) I couldn’t even decide if it was good to see him.
It wasn’t until a few days later when I realized I didn’t care, that I knew it was good to see him. I’d stopped “accidentally” checking his twitter feed or checking out the website he posts on and while I wish him well in the future and genuinely hope for the best, I know I don’t have to really care anymore.
Even when he sent another email explaining his lack of calling again, I felt nothing.
Maybe one day, when I have some spare time on my hands, I’ll look him up again and I hope to find him doing well.
But until then I can rest assured that I did what I knew I would. I got over him.
I guess that’s another rule and it may be clichéd, but time heals all wounds.
The crazy part is, with the feeling of strength I now have and lessons learned while healing, made it all worthwhile and I wouldn’t change a thing.
Rules for living 