If you're reading this blog and you know who I am, you are likely an ex-boyfriend of mine.
Welcome! Pull up a chair. Can I get you a drink? If I'm not mistaken, you like (insert your favorite drink). Yeah, I remembered. How? Cause I was the best thang you evah dated, that's how.
Long time, no talk. Surely. Because if we are exes, we don't talk, not really. Maybe we have had errant texts here and there. Maybe you have been asking for a kiss, a date, a drink, me to die, or sharing pictures of your recent camping adventures. Whatever it's been, I wanted to acknowledge it. You and me. It happened. It was awesome. Now it's awful, because when relationships end, it is the worst. Plagues are better. Breakups are to sunshine and puppy dogs as chainsaws are to sunshine and puppy dogs. You, me, it is sooo over. It was my fault, I know that you think so.
How does that make you feel?
If you're anything like me (and if we dated, you are), it's going to make you feel weird. Conflicted and weird. Should we have broken up? Should we some day get back together? Are we actually friends now or fake friends? Will you email me that I wrote this and it was obnoxious? I wonder these things. Other things I wonder: how you are, what makes you laugh, if I can still also make you laugh, and if you heard this recent song that I heard, because it makes me think of you, and I still think of you. Of course I do. I still laugh at the things we laughed at. It's funny how the bad stuff expires but the good stuff never does.
That thing you said. I remember. That thing that you did. I wish I could see you doing it now. My heart? Never whole again. Cause of you. You have that power over me. You probably always will.
Even if I act like I don't, as I said today, that's just my avatar. I use her to get to the next planet. I remember. Of course I do. I'm not a monster, as much as that would make this easier for you.
I've been thinking. I've been missing some things.
Do you miss me? If so, you should tell me. There needs to be more love in this world. we can share love without it being weird, can't we? I mean, we shared everything else. Even if we can't remember. Also I am very vain. If we dated, you already knew this, but I think it bears repeating. I am really vain. And I like to feel special. Don't you? If you say something nice to me, I will say something nice back to you. You deserve it. You are something. You own a piece of me, and that is amazing. I can say that, I can always say that. I will never keep from you the things that made me fall in love with you. No matter who either of us are with, no matter how either of us feel, I will tell you. Just ask.
Will you ask? Or will you be angry? Will you pretend that we are buddies when we aren't. Will you ask me one thing and then change it in the next breath? Will you stay away for months and then call me out of the blue? Will you wish that I will go to hell and stay there? Will you ever wish for me to be happy?
I hope you do. I wish that for you. I wish a lot of things for you. All good. Even if I hate you. Which I do. We're exes after all. Aren't we?
Well whoever you are, and whoever you are with, I hope you're doing well. And I don't expect us to talk, or be normal. I never was very normal to begin with. I hope when we talk it will be civil. I hope it will be kind. I hope you can say something nice to me because I will say something nice to you. I hope we can talk about that thing we laughed about for hours, in your (insert car), at the (insert place we went to), when the sky was (blue/gray/littered with stars). I hope that I don't inspire you to light many fires and I sincerely hope that you will not kill me. That would be very uncool (Brian, I am looking at you, you sick bastard. Ah, I'm kidding again. I never dated a Brian. Did I?).
Also exes, I'm single again. So be gentle if you are. And be very, very gentle if you are not. Cause ruminating on you today is kind of making me dizzy. For what it's worth. Which is, you know, nothing I suppose. Not worth the paper I printed this on, or something along those lines.