At the end of a hideously bad day, I met W for a glass of wine at my neighborhood dive bar. It’s not a real dive bar. It’s a hipster dive bar, but I love love love it. They have excellent food (see, not a real dive bar) and I like the energy of the place.
We walked in and the place was packed, so we glanced around, saw no seats and walked out, standing on the rain-soaked patio, debating where to go next.
Then my beloved ex A walked out to say hello, pint glass in hand. We had a great chat, with my assuming he was there on a date, since he made no move to invite us back inside. He was not, he was sitting at the bar by himself, so W glanced back in, saw a table half had opened up, and we wandered back in with A.
I had the best time! I really loved it.
First, I love A. Everyone who knows A loves A. He’s a wonderful guy, especially in 20 minute increments. (An old joke for us, but not far from the truth . . . he makes an amazing first impression and he’s completely charming at cocktail parties, despite being “a barbarian,” his favorite way to describe himself. It’s not true, but he has chosen an interesting path through life and he’s someone I still view as a guru. So does everyone else who meets him. Also, adorably cute and impish.)
We were incompatible in a lot of ways (especially sexually), but we soldiered on for years regardless.
So, we had a blast.
On the day on which I had my eating disorder freakout with my weight dipping to 112, I had a glass of wine, about 1/2 of a basket of amazingly great tater tots, followed by the bun-less sliders I’ve been dreaming about for two weeks. The guys, who have been friends with each other for nearly a decade, drank beer.
A said, look, I am very disappointed you broke up with the rich guy [BFD], because I really want to buy our condo from you. He continued: “you need to get married and get the fuck out . . . You have a year, so make it happen.” W assured him I had another rich guy on deck, although W is not so sure that LP is still involved.
[W thinks LP is trying to power-play me, by ignoring me this week. I believe that LP is absurdly busy with work, and with a lot of drama going on with his ex. I am incapable of accepting that someone with whom I have gone out four times in two weeks, who loves kissing me, who has shared the most emotionally painful and sexually intimate things with me, who desperately wants to have sex with me, but who has respected my boundaries, would just drop me after we had agreed we’d be getting naked, although not yet doing the full-on sex thing. I mean, it’s possible, but come on.]
A has had a girlfriend for so long he refuses to tell me when they started dating. They met while we were together, but he insists there was no overlap. I believe him. She does what he does and they met in school. That’s all I know. Oh, and her name. They’ve been dating for, I think, about two freaking years. Amazing. He seems happy, but is intellectually unsatisfied. It happens.
W has a girlfriend, the faux-hemian golddigger who is trying to get knocked up by him. W, for all of his wonderful qualities, picks truly horrible mates. Shrill, dumb, and often crazy. Seriously. I could tell you stories — death threats, suicide threats, intentional “accidents.” W is a successful professional, a prominent socially-connected donor, and he dates beautiful and incredibly immature women, who have an incredibly outable thing in common. All except me and the faux-hemian golddigger. She tells everyone she is desperate to get knocked up by him. He knows this. What he doesn’t really know is her. They’ve been dating for 3-4 months and they are getting ready to move in together, she’s redecorating his house, and she wants to be pregnant like now. It’s insane because he’s ambivalent. He wants a kid, but doesn’t know if he wants to be with her, and he has been incapable of processing that having a kid with her does not mean he will have any access to said kid. Anyway . . .
Regardless of the choices we make in our romantic lives, I am so fortunate to have really wonderful men who know me intimately on both an emotional and physical level and who still love me, despite knowing me as well as they do. They are not the only exes floating through my life, or still in orbit around me, as BP says. From the Alternate Reality, who remains passionate about me, though we never dated, and would do anything in the world for me — and means it, to BP, who tells me often that we will be together again in the future — even as he then tells me about his new girlfriendS, to E, who is still one of my best friends, to XP, these are men who are still my friends, who still love me, despite the fact we’re not together anymore, or in one case, never were. Even BFD and I are still friends . . . through everything, we’re still friends. We still talk constantly and we still love each other.
That is true among almost all of my exes. We still love each other. Our bond is still strong. We are still important in each other’s lives.
Knowing this makes it easier to endure some of my present trials — the break with BFD, the disappearance of LP. I know at the end of the day that I am loved. That I have been loved dearly. That I will love and be loved again.
All this from a fabulous couple of hours with my two favorite exes at the end of a long, painful day, during a long, painful week.