We’ve all been there. Bumping into that ex who gave us the saltiest introduction to rejection. The one who turned us into sophisticated new media stalkers. The kind of ex and the kind of break up that had our self esteem laid out flat for days and months on end.
SOMETIMES HONEY...YOU MAKE ME FEEL THIS BIG!
In the haziness of last night’s party, I bumped into him. Roughly four years since he hung up on me, crying from the rooftops that I lived in “la la land” and that he was just toooo busy sucking ass to the clichés of a suburban brat (Subrat) transplant to the city.
He had gained weight. If ever cake donut batter from Dunkin’s were used to mold a body, my vodka/rocks goggles were looking right at it. The aesthetic of his fat was so baby butt/ cake donut mushy and so poorly distributed on his short frame, that he didn’t even appeal to me in a middle- aged, daddy complex sort of way. I was way over the bitterness hill.
The shifty eyes and body language that had gotten me excited in the past, and which I had stealthily regarded from across rooms, as a kind of pre foreplay- foreplay, now came off as straight awkwardness.
He offered me a beer and I accepted. We caught up on small talk and he eyed me up there, and sporadically throughout the rest of the night. I told him I was happy, he said he didn’t know what that meant. Happiness was a foreign concept to him. How edgy.
I was just recently unemployed, struggling in a troubled industry, balls out unsure of where my life was going. Barely had enough for the drink I was nursing. No lie though, I was happy. I had the hope of a soldier navigating warrior terrain.
That’s half the battle right? Enough of the anxiety flagellation routine, I wanted to anchor myself on more positive coasts. Done with putting up with nonsense. To actually be woken up in the middle of the night to be rudely told I was snoring! Can you imagine? Clearly a way to throw me the part of unwanted visitor in his bed, once the fucking had been done.
I nursed the beer that he had given me in the now sweltering subterranean hotel lounge, the peace of mind so long in coming. I savored the victory. I couldn’t boast of a stellar career, or fab loft etc…(admit it girls we all want THAT moment when we see THAT ex)…I had wised up though and that was largely sufficient.
He continued to eyeball me. I jostled amidst the networking partygoers, each in their own way sweating out fears of the future, shedding past baggage like a 6th grade wardrobe, eeking sanity out of an unsettling urban jungle. I settled my score and said goodnight, finally leaving him and that shit behind.