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Battle of the Exes in Three Acts

Boy meets girl, shit doesn’t work out.

Boy and girl part ways and live happy, meaningful lives.– Me 3/5/12

We gonna call this dude Mr. Kidney, in reference to yesterday’s post.

There was a reason why I ignored this dude for years after we broke up. There’s a reason I let his messages go to voice mail. There’s a reason his emails blocked.

Mr. Kidney has to win. He doesn’t listen, and when he does, it’s only to have just enough material to help him build his rebuttal. He’s making great use of his law school education.

Mr. Kidney, Esquire (ahem) tries to act as if he’s evolved, but doesn’t do fundamental things (listening, being humble and knowing when to shut the hell up) that will aid in the personal growth he swears he’s trying to attain.

ACT ONE

I tried to be nice. That’s when he sent me long-winded email number one.

I sent him a lovely email telling him not to dwell on the past and to move forward which is what I have done. I told him one person alone can’t heal a friendship and I am not a willing participant. Don’t feel bad about it. I congratulated him for whatever growth he’s had and I understand we were both young and made a lot of mistakes. Don’t want to be friends, don’t take it personal, I’m not bitter. I appreciate apologies, but it’s really all good.Go on to greatness. God bless.

That’s the gist.

ACT TWO

Like a good rat king, he’s not going to die when you set out the first traps.

Fool then sends me long-winded email number two.

He starts talking about “planting seeds of friendship” and looking into my heart and not looking at the man he used to be and how we had this deep, profound relationship that will span the ages and all sorts of flowery, crazy stuff. He said, he’ll try to contact me five years from now and continue to do so and that my rejections are a part of our epic story and blah, blah, blah. Then he said something about pursuing the healing of our friendship into “the winter of our age.”

Thank you Mr. Frost.

ACT THREE

At that point, I lost my shit, and decided to do what I said I was not going to do years ago. I went ahead and just called him out on all of his arrogant, pompous, self-inflated bullshit, take a quick trip back down memory lane, to the lying and cheating and disrespect to paint a clearer picture. So I went there. I actually felt great after doing so.

Enjoy parts of my rant:

You haven’t lost your flair for the dramatic. You still love the sound of your own voice, the flow of your own beautiful words. And boy are they beautiful. But what the hell are you really saying behind your grand, well-penned phrases? We can’t be friends because you will forever be arrogant. You will continue to posture and debate until you win. You make assumptions, you have to flaunt your grand deep insight. You will always be older than me, but my brotha, I’ve lived enough now to not be impressed or intimidated by a flurry of words you string together and deliver passionately. But do you honestly stand still? Do you really listen seriously? I was enraptured in your grand way with words. It was so grand and intoxicating then. It is so extra now. When it got down to the thick of it all, you were a manipulator. King of the mind fuck, king of turning shit around to win.  You are doing it now. I hurt you. You wanted to marry me, but you always accused me of cheating, going through my shit, moving chicks in your house, cheating on me, playing mind games, getting me all twisted up and confused. You weren’t ready to marry me as much as i wasn’t ready to marry you. You liked what I represented.  I’m done with this. Like only you can, you’ve roped me into your shit. I was trying to be classy. I was trying to call it a damn day. If you are so intent on this, I guess we have a date five years from now, where I’ll still tell you to go sit your dramatic ass down someplace. There is no story, there is no epic tale of you and me that spans the ages. Boy meets girl, shit doesn’t work out. Boy and girl part ways and live happy, meaningful lives. We are not these larger than life characters you’ve made us to be.

Then came long-winded email number three where after a long rant on forgiveness and coming clean about all of the dirt he did, and why he had to lie to me all of the time and how he has to long live with the ramifications of violating me and our relationship he says even if I respond to this email, he’s not going to respond back.

He’s a bitch. I knew after I went off on him, he wasn’t going to leave the scene of the crime, tail between his legs. He had to have the last word. This didn’t surprise me.

What kills me in all of this is, he’s seeking forgiveness which I gave to him years ago, and made reference to in my first really nice email where I applauded him for the courage and humility it took to reach out and apologize.

Once again, he didn’t listen. He just wanted to find holes in my points, so he could make grander points. He extended friendship and I politely declined and suggested we move on. And as I rejected his fool-hearted control tactic of a marriage proposal nearly a decade ago, he felt rejected again and lashed out.

What a surprise.

As I told another friend, “you can forgive someone, but sometimes you just can’t sit down, drink some International Foods Coffees and have a good, civilized chat with them.”

I don’t want to put myself at discomfort just so he can prove to me he’s a different man now. I’ll take his word for it without having to be his buddy.

What does this fool want me to do? Fry some chicken, take his head to my breasts, hum a negro spiritual and say, “My chile you forgiven?”

As Celie from the Color Purple told Mister. “What you done to me already been done to you.”

He also addressed karma and having to pay for his actions (what didn’t he address?).

He’s divorced now, but he made it very clear he was not trying to rekindle anything romantically, but wanted us to get reacquainted. He also said now that he was divorced, I could “lift” my “moral restriction” that kept me from talking to him because he had a wife.

Really? Really?

I ignored you because you were an asshole. Not because you were married.

I would have preferred that he ask me for a kidney.

 

 

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2 thoughts on “Battle of the Exes in Three Acts

  1. Pingback: Breakups and Makeups: Not as Juvenile as I Thought « 29tolife

  2. Pingback: When Exes Get Married, But Not to You « 29tolife

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