The Girl in Black

Se necesita una poca de gracia.

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

The Return of the "Dreaded" Ex...

Have you been sitting on the edge of your seat in anticipation?

Goddess knows I wasn't. More like slouched over in resignation. Had you asked me Monday, I would have answered that I would prefer him to stay away for an indeterminate amount of time.

But that was Monday.

By Tuesday I had made peace with the situation. But coming home last night was still quite the surreal experience. I opened the door, greeted the cats, and looked up to see my ex sitting at his computer like always, as if nothing had happened at all and I had not been living by myself for the past few weeks. I had been dreading this slightly, afraid that it would be all too easy to again become trapped in the behavioral patterns that made me so unhappy in the first place. But he nervously turned around in his chair, gave me a small smile, and got up to give me a hug. It was suprisingly warm and familiar, and friendly.

We talked nervously at first, and I found something to do by retrimming my suprisingly wilted tulips (they usually last past Wednesday). I took shelter on my computer, and he went back to his. But as the evening progressed, we kept talking on and off. Things got a little easier, and a little less awkward. I didn't even think about the fact that if you live with someone for two years you have instinctual physical and non-verbal responses that you have to remind yourself not to do. But we can kind of laugh about it together, as we know we're both going through the same thing. We both understand.

He also asked if it was alright to continue wearing the snazzy track jacket that I got him for Christmas, to which I said of course. He then sheepishly admitted that he liked it so much because it was a "total chick magnet." What else could I do but laugh at how I had unknowingly given my then-boyfriend something that would apparently help him pick up other girls? I suppose that's what friends are for.

Later on I lamented the unusually quick wilting of my tulips to him. "It's me," he said "I make flowers wilt." I answered with a silly reply, but I think there's some kind of odd truth to that, that maybe in his world flowers wilt faster. Of course, he'll say that I just bought an older bunch of flowers and that it's all only cooincidence. And that's just him. And that's okay.


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