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Who Are We Really Competing With When We Critique The Exes’ Next?

Human beings are so competitive even when it’s absolutely useless to be so.
Especially when we are in an imaginary competition with our exes’ current girlfriend, wife.
The most ridiculous part is when we compete with women from his past.
So we compare ourselves regardless.
I’m thinner, I have a better body, I’m more educated, she has kids, I don’t and the list goes on and on.
Our friend even get in on the action, and as well-meaning as they are, even when you aren’t really thinking about the comparison game, they pull you into thinking about the comparison game.
It’s kind of petty, but it’s something we naturally do because we tend to think highly of ourselves, especially when it comes to the type of girlfriend we may have been to the other person who at one point agreed to be with us seriously, or even if it was a casual hookup or 40.
So we pull people we know nothing a part based on a scant amount of information, even if we’ve happened to take a look at their public social media accounts. If your competition is gorgeous, you look for any flaw in their body, intellect or personality.
If the person isn’t attractive, you question your exes taste, you say that they downgraded from you or upgraded to you.
And all of these things temporarily make us feel better, but why?
Your ex is an ex for a reason. It didn’t work out. What is it about human nature that makes us still care about what they think of us?
It’s probably that same part of us hoping that ex runs into us when we’re looking our best or us going that extra mile to be super fabulous if we know they are attending and event we’ll be going to.
Deep down inside, whether we still want the other person or not, we always want them to ALWAYS want us.
That’s why it’s easy to take a phone call from a friendly ex who wants to reminisce about the past or compliment you on a photo they happened to see of you online.
As I get older, bashing the past and present girlfriends of my exes or even guys I’ve been interested in is loosing its pleasure and just makes me feel petty.
It makes me ask internal questions about why I care and why I’m competing with someone who isn’t even thinking about me.
Or maybe she is and she’s comparing herself to me…

‘Check Your Price Tag’

So I’m sitting at my desk fighting tears.

I have real friends who really love me and I know they do. I love them too.

I can be immovable when I want my way. Which can be a good thing in pursuit of a positive goal.

But on the flip side, it can be detrimental to my soul. When I have a vision– from the contents of a gift bag I’m making for friends and family, to a picnic, to a tee-shirt photo shoot, I see the final product in my mind and I want the pieces to come together and I bend and pull and stretch and even push others with me all the way to the finish line.

Usually my visions almost always turn out even better than I expected which makes all of the moments of discomfort and craziness beyond worth it.

My vision of a happily ever after with my ex, did resurface.

I was frustrated with my friends because they didn’t understand me, but at the same time they understood me all too well. They understood my laser-like vision when I’ve decided to put my entire everything into something. Some remained quiet. Some were more vocal. I didn’t want to hear any of it and I still don’t and it’s honest. Even for some of them reading the post, I don’t really want to talk about it.

He texted me within an hour of losing his job yesterday.

And what was I doing?

Thinking about who I knew or didn’t know to help him find another job.

He was a grown man, who never solved any of my problems. He never dropped everything to fix things for me and make it all better.

But just like when he got into the car accident when we were together, I hopped on a plane in a matter of hours and I was there.

He wasn’t even hurt. The car was totaled, he was just shaken up.

But I ran in. Captain Save A Brother.

He had a difficult childhood. Most of his life was difficult. I was going to be the sunshine, the healer. The one to make up for several years of pain.

But who was I to take that on?

I’ve had difficulties too. I’ve had deep pains that I knew were impossible for others to comprehend. I had secret fears that would destroy my sleep, tighten my chest and leave me gasping for air in the middle of the night.

I’ve suffered adversity and loss.

When I was in the professional fight of my life with a serious foe trying to take me down, he was tired of me always complaining about my job. I was being paranoid that someone was trying to destroy me and what about his day?

If that was my struggle every day, I needed someone to listen and be compassionate every day. That’s what I fucking needed. I didn’t need money, I didn’t need my ass kissed. I just needed compassion for what I was going through and a co-signer to say nasty things about the chick and hold me up.

Someone out there would love me enough to work through it, even if it seemed to them like I was paranoid. Someone out there would not want me to carry that level of stress every single day. They would want to fix it, they would offer to even go to my job and punch ol girl in the face and risk jail time. But they wouldn’t blame me for being selfish when someone is stealing my ideas, trying to discredit me and fuck with my money. They would be team Me all day no matter what.

I’m upset that I love someone so much who needs me so much emotionally all the time and I give so much emotionally, even when I don’t have to, but when I’m alone and crying at night, or can’t sleep, or can’t get out of my funk, I have zero support. We haven’t been together for nearly three years and you still got all of these problems. And I’m still willing to run out in the middle of traffic. For you.


I asked myself today, “When has he ever come, guns blazing to rescue or support me?”

The realization was crushing. I kept trying to think of a time when I struggled or had a major problem and aside from taking some money out of our joint account, emotionally what has he attempted to fix on my behalf? When has he rushed to come save me, protect me and whoop emotional ass to restore my piece of mind? Even at the height of our relationship, it seemed his problems were our problems and my problems were mine to fix alone. Even the ending of our relationship was clearly our problem, but I was left to deal with the aftermath of it, alone.

He does not know how to love me the way I need to be loved.

I let the bullshit cesspool of dating that I’ve been a part of for the last year or so convince me the grass was greener. That if I had him, I at least had something. Two weeks ago, yes I loved his smile, how he looked (he looked good) the familiar ways he touched me. But there was nothing substantial between then and now to suggest he’s changed or he’s grown or he’s any better than he was when he broke my heart and ran off like a little boy and our engagement ended.

So yesterday, when he unloaded yet another problem, I did nothing but wonder if he’d downward spiral, get down on himself or drink too much and do something dumb.

Am I a fucking parole officer? A babysitter?

He’s 31.

I am a woman with needs and desires and hopes and dreams. I don’t mind giving and sharing and loving, but I need it back. I need it back like I need water and air.

I have no clue where my husband is. But I know without a doubt this world is difficult. I need someone who is just as strong if not stronger than me to help me pull the load and then pull me and the load when I just can’t go any further. I’m a woman. I shouldn’t be pulling no grown ass capable man and the load too, all the time, everyday.

So I don’t know if he’s just emotionally lazy or if he has real problems. It’s probably both. But either way, as one friend pointed out this morning, it’s not on me.

Me: He admitted he didn’t fight for me. I’m worth fighting for and going out on a limb for.

Her: So you should check your price tag.

Mellody Hobson Lucas would never stand for no shit like that.

Tweet “Enough”

I’m On One

After having a number of eye-opening experiences this week that required me to look at myself, my heart has been pulling me in strange, unexpected directions.

I was skyping with the youngin and enjoying it. He’s a sweetheart. I like this guy. He is 23, I like him and I’ve decided that’s going to be that. We will keep talking and maybe visit one another and it’s just going to be what it is.

I told him last night if he were six years older, it would be a no-brainer. He began to sulk. But it was my truth.

Speaking of truths. I reached out to my ex-fiance.


Yup. But I sent him an email and I had never been so clear. I let some things off my chest after having all of these discussions about supporting black men and about my own ego. And I apologized to him.

Did everyone just flip out? Yeah. I did apologize to him and I told him that I still prayed for him and his well being.

Several hours later he wrote me back. (I told him he did not have to)

He’s still a sad sack. Which is really unfortunate. He’s still struggling with his own issues and he said that I really did not have to apologize to him and that the breakdown in our relationship was still mostly his fault.

The funniest thing to me is his assumption of my happiness. He said he read between the lines and it seems I must have found someone who made me happy.

I laughed out loud on that.

Now, I won’t correct his ass, because hey, I just won’t. I’m single as a dollar bill, but he doesn’t need to know that.

So me being me, I responded this morning.

I told him I’ve had my share of lumps and some days I feel completely shitty. We all do. Life is quite difficult. From all of the self-help books, shows, the Bible and everything else, I’ve learned that adults have to design and maintain their happy.

As babies, someone can jangle keys in our face or play peek a boo and we are tickled. If someone “takes our nose” oh man, you can’t stop us from laughing.

But as we get older, learn somethings and struggle and fail and be disappointed, it takes a whole lot to make us “happy.”

We think having nice things or money will do it. Plenty of successful folks with a lot of stuff can tell you. They still aren’t happy. Just ask Kanye West. I’m just saying. He’s the unhappiest rich person ever. Always looking crazy.

So as we all go through this planet, we have to keep readjusting our idea of what makes us happy. Somethings get old, and then we have to find new things to spice it up.

I told my ex, that I’m experimenting with what makes me happy. Reading, writing, doing tee shirts, spending time with friends and family, traveling, cooking new things, volunteering, working out or doing active things.

You can’t be happy all of the time, that’s why happiness feels so frigging awesome when we  are happy. Happy is fleeting, just as much as pain and despair is. And just like we can stretch out our pity parties, we got to stretch out the happy moments too.

I told him he’s the one who has to forgive himself. I told him that he’s actually mastered the art of surviving terrible things in life, so now he has to learn how to be a liver (someone who is alive, not the organ).

I took this whole thing to the next level. My fingers were typing ahead of me and I invited him to visit. I told him there’s no catch and I don’t even want to talk about the past. I just want us to spend a day or two devoted to being happy doing things happy people do. I told him we could have ice cream and fly kites and pet puppies all day long. But the goal is to not think about anything else but being happy. We used to be pretty damn good at it.

Now whether he takes me up on it or not, hey that’s completely up to him. But I saw someone I loved and still love still hurting.

I’m not trying to solve his problems. I learned the first time around I can’t solve them. He has to do that work.

But for some reason, that’s what my heart told me to do. It’s nuts. But I have some perspective and I’m not afraid. Having a day of being silly and kind and loving to a hurting person in need, I don’t feel like I’m giving up something or a part of my soul. I feel like at this time in my life it’s the right thing to do.

Will it open a big ass can of worms if he comes?


But I offered the invite from a genuine, and loving place and because I did that, God’s got it. I feel good about what I did. I actually feel lighter and better. I don’t even have a desire to take it back. Because I did the right thing, I know it came from my heart.

I know he’s difficult. I know he doesn’t trust people. I feel like if I offer him this opportunity to just let it go for a day or two, in a safe place, with someone who he knows cares about him, it could potentially help him. That’s all I want to do and then send his ass home.

More Dreams, Ex Appreciation Week, and Greece?

Alrighty folks. It seems like this week has been the week to have strange dreams and strange things happen.

I woke up this morning and sat straight up in my bed.

This time I dreamt of my ex from freshman up until the summer leading into junior year of college.

Again I was in the South. Totally in New Orleans. I was hanging with my ex as comfy and cozy as can be. We were affectionate and exchanging our usual quips and jokes rapid fire. His mom was there, but in real life she loved me. In the dream, not so much because she said I didn’t speak to her right away when I got in the house. His younger brothers were there too.

Everything felt like real-time, but his youngest brother kind of stayed around the age of 12, but his middle brother was the correct age. Anyway, Mom was throwing a lot of shade and making reference to my “expensive clothes” and my “expensive bag.”

I was laughing, because I wish I had expensive clothes. What I consider expensive and what other folks consider expensive are totally different things. One of my friends said I could save more money if I didn’t go shopping as much as I do. But my response was that I shop at Marshalls, Ross, and H&M. I’ll buy tons of clothes for like $60. And I like Macys. But I’m not a high-end girl, by any means.

Anyway. This dream had me really crazy because I’ve decided to go with all of this. I’m deeming this week Ex Appreciation Week.

For better or for worse, I chose a handful of men and made them my life and my world. I shared my hopes, dreams, love, mind and body with these folks and they had an impact on my life.

It is what it is.

I’m thankful that 2 out of the 4 of them, I could have a drink with and actually enjoy their company with.

The other two, well, you know about them.

As for Greece, I told you folks about a great dream I had the night before last.

Well, I was talking to one of my besties last night and what does she suggest?

A trip to Greece. I didn’t mention my dream at all. She just brought it up.

So I’m freaked out.

I don’t think I’m clairvoyant by any means, but I do feel like maybe there is something in Greece that I need to see or do to give me some inspiration and direction. So it looks like I need to get my ducks in a row and figure out how to get to Greece.


On Office Rumors And Relationship Closure

I am emotionally drained today.

Yesterday, after the immature text war I had with my ex, I was approached by a co-worker who is always talking about the imminent shake up of our company. Today she heard one of our top-level execs in another state was clearing out his desk.

No email that he’s no longer with us. No other facts, that’s all she had.

It set off a firestorm of hysteria. I was already reeling from just being sick and tired of being at an emotional stalemate about my past relationship and wanting to just end it and walk away for good. No being a supportive friend who wants to hear quarterly updates, no Facebook, just free and clear. So this information about the job did not improve my mood.

I instantly thought of a top 10 list that Forbes put out about signs that your company is going to go through a massive shake up. One of those rules mentioned top dogs, resigning, getting fired, or seeing them clean up their LinkedIn profiles. So I went into full panic mode.

Shit was going to go down.

Welp, let’s get to this morning. It was a false alarm. He was indeed cleaning out his desk, but ridding it of several magazines he has no doubt collected over time. No resignation, no firing.

Ridiculous. So I’m irritated. If I don’t hear anything from the boss or see a company wide email I’m not entertaining any more end of the job world talk. I’m through. I’m going to keep applying for other jobs, so I can get the hell out before things get worse. That’s it.


As for “Relationship Closure” another thing I promised in today’s headline, I’m going to try to make this brief.

My ex wants to hang on to his pain, and my pain and punish himself forever.

I told him I forgave him a long time ago, and him inflicting emotional pain on himself will never settle the score or make us even, it’s only going to make him have a horrible life.

We both have to move forward. I still love him, but going on two years just in limbo, or having him tell me every three months that he loves me and he can’t get his shit together is not helping me.

I’ve grown from this and I’m not willing to just roll up and die anymore because I’ve been hurt.

He says it’s easier for me to move on because I wasn’t the one who inflicted the pain.

I asked him if he learned anything at all, and he asked how can he learn and grow from hurting someone so badly?

I told him if anything, the lesson should be that if you ever get the chance to love, you will do everything in your power not to hurt someone so badly, you’ll fight for what you want, you’ll appreciate what you have, and you will have faith to try and get up even if you fail.

I told him I didn’t know the person I was talking to. I was crying that it killed me that he couldn’t see the good in him that I could still see, even after all he put me through. But I can’t make him see it, I can’t make him forgive himself, I can’t make him believe in himself, I can’t make him trust himself and trust God.

And that’s when I knew. The gulf between us had grown into a black hole.

Any man who loves me has to completely love and know himself first, so that when he is with me there isn’t any doubt, there isn’t any fear, the thought of failure in loving me will not exist because if he’s loving me to the best of his ability every day, he isn’t failing. He can’t.

That man has to know that.

I can’t squander my love and my sanity and my mental and physical health on someone like that. And it hurts me right now.

Believe it or not, I want him to succeed and be happy and healthy.

He said “it wouldn’t make you feel better if things were the complete opposite and I was totally happy after all of this.”

I said, “Dude, I love you so much and yes I have pride and ego. The greatest extent of bad I would want to happen to you is to have a flat tire every month for two years. And there, that’s real.”

“But in terms of you having all of this anguish off of hurting me, you not growing, you not learning, you making yourself a martyr, that doesn’t please me. That doesn’t make me feel better. You have to heal. That’s what real love is, that’s what deep love is, that’s what it is to love someone on the level I love you. It’s sick to want you to carry on like this for the rest of your life.”

“I’m a fucked up person, that’s the real me,” he said.

“Baby, I’m not ready to let the pain of you and me kill me. I’m not ready to die. I want to live. I have to live. I can’t have you have this hold on me. I can’t go into another year feeling like I can’t really dig into new relationships because I’m hanging on to you, or worried about you and what’s going to happen to you because you are talking the way you are talking. You have to get help, you have to talk to somebody.

You don’t have to feel like you have no purpose. Even if you have to pick one thing to thank God for everyday when you get up, start there. But you got to want more for yourself. You got to want to do better.”

He replied he doesn’t want anything. That he is no good to anyone.

I didn’t know what else to say. I cried and begged him to get it together, not for me but for himself. To dig deep and heal his wounds from us, from his past, from his family, because the road he is on is dark and horrible.

I cannot join him any longer. Even though we haven’t been together for going on almost two years, I was still with him on this path.

This is really the end for me.

I’ve come too far and I see it. I can’t look back. I can’t wait for the fantasy I once had. I don’t want to say that it’s a hopeless situation. God can turn anything around. But what can you do with a person who does not want to save themselves?

I see him drowning. But I told him as much as I love him, I can’t put myself out there for him again or say we can start over. I can’t put myself out there to save someone who is so far gone. I barely survived the last time.

Still crying, my last words were, “I’ve got to hang up now. Goodbye.”

Leave My “Stuff” But “Take the Box”

I looked in the mirror this morning, and I liked what I saw staring back at me.

I liked my new short, curly hair, my high cheekbones, my gap-toothed smile.

I felt good.

So good, I practiced my speech for whenever my ex plans to drop in on my life.

I’ll give him back the ring and say how holding on to it is holding me back. How I thought keeping it would be a reminder that at some point in time, someone loved me that much and thought so highly of me.

Now, that’s not what that ring means. A ring is a thing and a symbol of what ever we choose.

The ring lost its original meaning of a promise to stand with me and love me forever, when he just left me hanging.

The symbolism of the ring kept changing for me over the course of me dealing with my pain of his abandonment.

It was a symbol of hope at one point. After all, he told me to keep it because he wanted to put it back on my finger some day.

It was a symbol of failure because the relationship was really over. He wasn’t going to get himself together anytime soon. He was too busy thinking of himself, his own self-preservation, finding his own way, a better job, dealing with his family issues.

It was a symbol that it belonged to me and not him and that I would be damned if he gets the satisfaction of getting any of his hard-earned money back.

I even hate the fact that the word forever is inscribed on the inside.

And now it’s just a pretty ring in a box.

Some people say the best way to get over an old man is to get under a new one.

While I’m not chomping at the bit to be in a relationship, I can appreciate the attention of someone who is genuinely interested in me.

That genuine interest and the knowledge that you always have something to offer someone else and that person will appreciate it, respect it and not let it go, and will fight to keep it will give you the confidence to finally get over the old man.

When a relationship ends, you often blame yourself first and think of all of the things you did wrong, or could have done better even if the demise of the relationship wasn’t even your fault.

Having a new person in your life, who is encouraging you and complimenting you from an honest place (not just trying to have sex) will help you see yourself through new eyes.

In the scenario with my ex. I also see myself looking across the table and saying to him. I’m not the same person. You preferred my hair straight and long. I love it short and curly. You preferred me 20 pounds lighter. I’m a solid six pounds lighter, but I’m steadily working on me and I don’t think I look bad.

I’m nothing like who I was when you were with me, and you had a lot to do with that. So who knows? You may not even like who I am now.

And I’m not quite sure if who I am now, will even like you.

I really thought I couldn’t live without you. And once I stopped crying, and took one step at a time, once I realized that I could laugh and smile again, it got easier.

Silly me. I thought I couldn’t live with out you, meanwhile, you didn’t give me much of a choice. You just left.

There was a time I saw nothing but darkness. The thought of me not mourning over us was impossible to conceive.

I’m thankful for the moments when I think of nothing at all, where I just feel sunshine on my face, or warm shower water running down my back.

I remember when I could feel nothing but pain.

I’m so glad I can taste a really great meal, smell a sweet smell, and hear happy music.

It would have been tragic if I let you take all of that with you when you left. Makes me think of the poem from from “For Colored Girls” “Somebody almost walked away with all of my stuff.” (Alfre Woodard killlllled this.)

I wish you the best. And I really do love you. But you proved to me the extent of your ability to love me and it just wasn’t good enough. I do believe you gave me what you thought was your best at the time.

However, I believe that I deserved better than that then, and I certainly deserve better than that now.

And now, this lovely Amy Winehouse jam. “Take the Box” This is from that early “Frank” album. So no, no beehive hair. I would have done a more recent live version, but you can’t hear the lyrics as clearly.

One and A Half Feet Out the Door…

I have a whole lot of grown woman songs in my head right now.

I’m slightly annoyed but entirely enlightened.

I was talking to two of my close friends. I said the magic words, “I think I may keep so and so around. I like him.”

So and so is the older gentleman, and we’ve been spending a nice amount of time together lately.

The most we’ve done is a lingering hug and a kiss on the cheek.

We’ve been trying all kinds of restaurants, he’s teaching me to play golf, we have gone to the casino and we have a really long list of museums and other things to check out and experience together. It’s no drama. He’s open and honest.

Words are powerful. As soon as I said what I said yesterday, I knew the universe heard me loud and clear, and would challenge me to hold me to it or back down.

As soon as I said it, I then followed up saying, “I can feel my ex coming. I haven’t heard a peep for too long, and now that I’ve said that, he’s going to pop up.”

I should have also included that I wanted a million dollars, because just as I was saying goodnight to my date after going out for seafood and then playing a few rounds of the Scrabble card game Scrabble Slam, my ex-fiance sent me a text.

You know the good ol’ how are you one.

I knew it.

I felt it, I knew.

His testosterone levels must have dropped, he felt a tingle in his balls, because I was having a really good time with someone else.

So I’m an active participant in my own torture. I return the message and then he asks to call.

So fine. We talk.

He let’s me know about his new job and he does his signature move of dropping information on me nonchalantly.

First, I said something snarky, so he playfully joked he would use all of the frequent flyer miles he’s racking up with his travel-heavy gig and come “hunt me down.”

To that I replied, “I’m at the same spot. There’s no hunting down necessary. No body is scared of you. Besides, I’ll believe it when I see it.”

I guess he saw this as a challenge.

So then he brings up the fact his company is headquartered 15 minutes from me. Duh, the last time we talked is when you hit me over the head with that info and then disappeared for three weeks, leaving me to deal with it, by sobbing uncontrollably and leaving work for the day. So no reminder is necessary.

He decides to announce that he’s told his superiors that anytime there is an opportunity to go to Maryland, he wants to be the person assigned.

Now, before when he mentioned this it seemed he would be assigned to go there from time to time, now he’s asking to be the one sent ANYTIME.

So he drops information, and I really didn’t react. I think I said something else snarky or changed the subject completely. He said I was acting stank when he just disclosed that he basically volunteered to be sent to Maryland as much as possible.

In my mind, I was asking myself what does this have to do with me? A year ago this information would have given me hope. Oooh, he asked them to send him to Maryland every time they need someone to go out there. Now, I just feel tired. Big deal.

The question is what are you trying to do once you get here?

What is your plan surrounding me?

At this point, I’d rather him go all out and say whether or not he wants me back and deal with my reaction than for him to drop all these hints waiting to see how I’ll react.

You’ll get a reaction out of me if you said, “I’m moving to Maryland permanently and I will do whatever it takes to be in your good graces again.” If he can do that or play P.M. Dawn’s “Die Without You” on two kazoos out his ass in two-part harmony, I’ll strongly consider he is really serious about me.

For right now, what he is shoveling me is filler.

And if you’ve seen me have a bad crab cake, you know how much I detest filler.

I honestly wanted one face to face over dinner to hash out some leftover stuff and move on, while looking ridiculously hot, give him blue balls and go home in triumph.

Even if he came back to Maryland for work after that grand event, I wouldn’t jump if he said he was in town.

But there he goes, upping the ante just slightly to get a reaction out of me. My reaction was not sleeping well last night and waking up annoyed this morning.

If he wanted to see me, he would have seen me by now. Long distance was hard enough the two years we did it. Now with him having a job where he’s gone and traveling four days out of the week, every week, he has no time for me.

He didn’t even mention any progress on his plan to obtain guardianship of his nephew, so I guess that isn’t even on his mind right now. He seems very much focused on himself… Oh that’s a newsflash. So that also pissed me off.

Dating the older gentleman taught me somethings. He treats me wonderfully. Like really great and we haven’t even rubbed up on each other. I may end up with a new car if I drop that thang on him. LOL. Just kidding. But I even told him, hey it’s so nice to be treated so well. I really appreciate it. The older gent said, “You deserve much, much, much more.”

Well hot damn.

He’s right.

While my ex is trying to earn frequent flyer miles to hunt me down, or come to my state when he gets assigned to do so once again illuminates that I am not a priority.

Following the first weekend we spent together, he wanted to see me so bad, he was on his job that Friday after booking a ticket in the morning and boldly walking off his job (his boss was out) to catch a flight. He even said if his boss called in to check, he could have gotten fired.

So if you had the balls to do that off of our first meeting, and you actually asked me to marry you, you would have found a way to come see me if you really wanted to.

I deserve much, much, more. So with that, I really think I’m almost done. I still love this man, yes, but really. I’m tired.
One of my favorite grown woman artists. Tweet. This is a gorgeous song. I’m going to cry, because this is one of her not well known tracks and it’s so on point. Lord this woman is a beast.

Life and Timing Strike Again

I had an awesome weekend celebrating the 30th birthday of one of my dearest friends.

We covered a lot of ground in D.C. and had great drinks, great food, great company and non-stop entertainment– even at a grimy Wendy’s at 3 a.m.  Don’t ask.

Naturally, I was exhausted from all of the revelry.

This morning, one text took my breath away and threatened to steal all of my progress and my healing in one swoop.

Long story short, my ex fiance has a new job that will include a lot of traveling. That I knew.

He informed me his company is headquartered 15 minutes from my house.

That’s right.

Life and timing bite me in the ass, yet again.

Two years ago, he and I would have gone Katniss and Peeta on anybody any time, anywhere for that kind of opportunity that could lead to him flying to see me on the company dime and in business class, and maybe after currying a little favor and impressing his employers, him eventually being able to move here for good.

I felt sick.

I was going to explode.

I quickly had to make my way to my work mom/mentor’s office where I could cry uncontrollably behind a closed door.

She sat quietly while I sobbed.

It all hit me at once. I was shaking.

I was crying and shaking and reacting because, fine. I still love him. But I was working to accept that I needed to get over it.

Just a week ago, he and I texted each other and nearly said our last rites. We literally talked about how our paths were diverging and how it seemed we were being pushed apart by circumstances, but never emotionally.

Maybe the irony of such a fresh discussion where it seemed both of us accepted our lives that would hardly ever intersect again in a meaningful way is what caused my emotional breakdown this morning.

I’m not dreaming of romantic movies and happy endings where all of this drama, all of the suffering and headaches lead us back to one another.

I don’t even want to be hopeful, to only be crushed again, and it really being my fault this time for being stupid.

I’m just mad at fate.

There was a reason it didn’t work at the time, but this latest twist in our story is downright painful, spiteful and mean.

I’ve been actively trying to move on. If you have been reading this blog, my struggle has been well documented and brutally honest.

What’s going to happen now? Your guess is as good as mine.

This is as far as I can go writing today. I’m sure you’ll understand. And now this song will be on repeat for the rest of the day…

When Exes Get Married, But Not to You

I think we are selfish, delusional creatures.

We often like to believe the people we’ve shared romantic relationships with join monasteries, convents, or the circus, or move to small towns, eat organic food they’ve learned to grow themselves and grow dreads or shave off all their hair after your relationship has ended.

Because we were the best thing to show up in their lackluster lives, prior to our arrival.


Your exes date other people. Some who look better or look worse, but cook better or just share more of the same interests, and then it happens.

They get married.

Now if you get married first, it doesn’t seem so bad.

You’re in the glow of all that you’ve got going on and you only have eyes for your betrothed.

But when your exes get hitched there’s an odd feeling of jealousy and a whole lot of going down memory lane.

So far one ex did get married several years ago. Now he’s divorced. We have discussed this in a couple of strange posts about his odd return.

Another ex, who I actually still consider a friend and a person I want to be happy is on his way down the aisle in about another month.

We didn’t split because we didn’t love each other anymore or that we even had problems. We split because long distance was too difficult and our career paths at the time gave us no choice but to be a part for what seemed to be an indefinite period of time. It was too soon in both of our careers for one person to say, no problem I’ll stay with you, or I’ll move wherever you go, because a year later, someone was probably going to have to move again to chase the dream.

I thought of this ex recently, because I did get to see him briefly last year. During our encounter we talked about the things we’d gone through and I was proud of him. He turned out to be the man I knew he was going to be.

I had satisfaction in being right.

But it did sting a bit that someone else was going to take the apples, make apple sauce, launch an apple sauce blog, and become the biggest apple farm in the United States, when I simply had a seed and some water.

I will totally not take the credit for his success, but I was and still am a big supporter. The point is, this is the one time I saw potential in someone and years later, I was totally correct.

Our relationship was fun. We were friends. We could crack jokes and be silly and being with him was like wearing my favorite college sweatshirt. Comfortable. He understood me in a way that most didn’t especially because we shared the same profession. We liked the same music and television shows and would spend entire evenings quoting lines from our favorite comedians.

He came from a good, solid family. With good, solid values.  He knew how to navigate barbeques in the hood, and be the only black guy with a bunch of friends at a hockey game. He did both comfortably. Yet he was always himself. He didn’t change the way he talked or acted, or dressed to fit in with any of the groups. He was just himself.

I think that’s what I appreciated about him most. He was a realistic dreamer, a hard worker and he did not complain much. He was passionate and it showed through his work. His friends and family adored him and we had great chemistry.

I didn’t cry until about three months after our breakup. And laying looking at the ceiling, I repeated to myself, “It just wasn’t our time.”

The more I said it, the more my chest would heave and the harder the tears would flow.

Cheers to my friend and his bride. I hope they make it. I want him to be happy and I’ve told him that. You can’t bottle lightening, and I wouldn’t dare try.

But I do still sincerely love him for what he brought to my life. Besides, his star is too bright and he is far too rowdy to join a monastery.

‘R You Ready for a Wonderful day?’

I get to work this morning and I look at my phone.

My ex (ex fiance I am still recovering from) sends me a text asking if we can talk later today.

He’s been going through some tumultuous family drama, and me being me, I agreed.

As soon as my mind started spinning, and my chest started to tighten, consumed with whatever he wants to talk to me about, I was pinged with another text.

This one from a male friend with whom there is an undeniable mutual attraction, but we find a way to argue everyday.

Aside from saying good morning, he said something that hit me like a tranquilizer dart.

“R you ready for a wonderful day?”

I was on the verge of the spiral, when I remembered all I’ve been gaining for nearly a year and a half, the pain, the setbacks, the small and large victories.

I realized I haven’t felt this good about myself in a long time, and with one text message, I was about to worry and second guess myself into oblivion.

I couldn’t go back. Regardless of what my ex has to say (and yes, I will talk to him because I said I would, and yes I actually care about him to offer my support) I’m going to remember something a fellow blogger L from Not So Skinny Genes said in a recent post that resonated with me since I read it.

“I will be the same amount of happy that I am right now, or I will be happier than I am right now. Because I’ve spelled everything out, and presented the option… regardless of their choice I will be able to feel confident that I didn’t hold anything back. There were no surprises. I valued myself.”

I already applied this theory to dealing with a difficult friend earlier this week, and I’m going to apply it again, when facing my ex later on today.

“R you ready for a wonderful day?”

Even though I fight with this guy friend on a regular basis, there are times he says things that just hit me over the head.

There was so much irony in the timing and who it came from.

“R you ready for a wonderful day?”

It was like he was opening a brand new door in my mind that had to have been there all along, but suddenly appeared out of nowhere today.

Was I going to choose to spend my entire day obsessing and agonizing over what my ex has to say 8 or 9 hours from now and letting that affect me and ruin my day?

He no longer has that right.

As another friend pointed out, he relinquished any right to me owing him anything when he spontaneously said he didn’t think he had what it took to be a good enough husband for me and simply walked away.

I choose my wonderful day.

I choose door number two.

“R you ready for a wonderful day?”

To which I replied,

“Yes. Yes, I am. Ironic. I got a text from someone who could potentially ruin my day and/or everything I’ve been working so hard to rebuild and you say that. It’s a good reminder. I’m ready for consistent wonderful days.”

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