Feelings

It's been a little over a year since my ex-gf asked me out to dinner with the intent to break up with me, which she did. I couldn't eat Thai food for weeks.

It was one of those classic break-up moments — shock, anger, sadness, relief. She was such a trooper, never once breaking or getting emotional. I didn't cry, but I didn't exactly maintain my composure, either.

And like a lot of break-ups, very little changed. She would call incessantly, email even more. Over the course of that very weird summer, we had sex exactly once. At her place. It was actually really hot. Sigh. I'm sure we were both just scratching an itch, but still.

She didn't actually sever the cord for real until the fall. There was a moment in October where it all just fell apart. My complete reality simply crumbled. I clung to the few things I had left--my apartment, my car, the phone number of a kick-ass weed delivery service--and the rest is scattered all over the pages of this thing you're looking at right now. Yeesh, to say the least.

Thanks to the irresistible, glorious horror of social networking, I've been able to keep tabs on her since. Nothing too stalker-ish, but you know.

The first thing I noticed was the guy. He popped up so fast I'm pretty sure he was in the picture long before her & I finally broke up. But whatever. Story of my life. Of course, he was all white and shiny and pretty. So much so I thought he was her gay boyfriend for a while. But no. They were fucking. Of course. Greeeeeat.

I would see her pithy, 'I'm a cosmopolitan bitch making it happen in L.A.' updates on various social network sites, and every time my heart would just sink. Worse, it was just another line on the list of things she'd once jokingly made me swear I'd never do if we broke up. Ever have that conversation? If you do, listen closely. Trust me.

Somewhere in there, I finally just got over it all. I stopped fixating on what wasn't and made a concerned effort to change my life for the better. Lo and behold, it kind of worked.

Lately, I've noticed that her updates have lost their usual zing. Actually, they've become kind of...sad.

I don't know if the guy is outta the picture now or what, but suddenly her public profile has turned into the girl I struggled to build a relationship with: A complete lack of self-esteem, constantly belittling herself, making lame jokes about how lame she is. I quickly remembered why relief was the overwhelming sensation I felt when she dumped me.

The only thing is that now I'm starting to feel bad for her. I KNOW this girl. She's pretty, smart, hard-working, goal-oriented--I could go on. She has got her shit together, and she makes it happen for real. It's what attracted me to her.

But underneath that facade is just such a sad little mess. It used to just kill me. Mainly because I could relate. Which is where we connected: We could see in each other what we couldn't see in ourselves.

So here I am, slowly rebuilding a life on my own terms for the first time in forever. I'm not dating women because I admire their fucking business acumen. I'm dating ones that make me happy. And smile and laugh and think and come so fucking hard and kiss me sweetly for as long as I want and smoke as much weed as I do.

So I see my ex looking like the sad, lonely cat lady and it makes me sad. Then I get mad at her friends--why aren't they there lifting her up?!

But then I remember that so many of her 'friends' are these opportunistic assholes whose primary concern is being in the VIP room of the hottest party every night. In short, lots of assholes.

I can't and won't reach out to her. It would just be opening a Pandora's Box of shit that I don't want or need to deal with. Fuck THAT. Plus after the way she straight faced me when I REALLY needed her... sigh. She's not the one. It's as simple as that.

Moving on...