Monday, June 21, 2004

I've been feeling nostalgic lately. This happens whenever my life is in an upswing, though I can't figure out why--when my natural tendency is to glorify the past, which is anything but glorifiable (Yeah, I just made that up). But lately I've had this urge to get in touch with my Ex. I'm not going to--simply because I'm a believer in letting sleeping dogs lie; but I've been having dreams about him and they've left me wondering what he's been up to.

It's been five years since we last saw each other. He surprised me one day by calling my office to tell me he was in town. We had dinner the following evening and swapped stories: we were both getting married within the year; we had both come to the conclusion that we should never have gotten married to each other; we were both doing very well in our careers; and we both considered one another very dear, lifelong "friends," though we'd used that term loosely since we both decided that our friendship would never be one where we'd invite eachother's families over for a barbeque.
And that was that. The very last time I "talked" to him was in e-mail on September 11. Since he lived in D.C. and commuted to Los Angeles frequently, I was worried about him, but thankfully, all was well. Since then, I have not been back to D.C. and, as far as I know, he has not been back to Seattle.

It's strange for me to think of our lives in segments...especially when there are certain people who remain close to us in every stage. But when my dog (our dog) died last year, he was the last "link" to my former spouse and so in essence, his death sort of ended that chapter of my life. And not to be overly dramatic or anything, but I had to put my dog to sleep on February 27--which would have been our tenth wedding anniversary.

I just can't help but think about how life would have been had we stayed together. Would we have stayed together? It's highly doubtful. We grew apart--and thankfully it was pretty early in life, when we were both still in our twenties. I have no regrets of having met him, or falling in love with him, or even marrying the guy. In fact, I truly believe the crap we went through has helped make me the person I am today, which is both good and bad.

It's good because I met him at a time in my life where I could have just continued down the same, fucked-up path as the rest of my family. I was well on the way to suckville--by junior year of high school I had cut so many classes that I had a 1.8 GPA and had to retake American History in summer school. I had no plans for college--and when we broke up and I had wallowed in my self-pity long enough, I began to turn my life around. I didn't do it for me, though; in fact, I had very low self-esteem and I figured if I could get serious with school and my future, I'd have a better chance at winning his heart again. Pretty pathetic, huh? Well it worked. And we were "together" again by my senior year in high school--although we lived on separate coasts since he was in college in D.C. We got married right after I finished college and I never really took the opportunity to congratulate myself for a job well done, including the 6 out of 8 semesters on the Dean's List.

It took me a long time to realize I had achieved many things in my life to impress other people--rather than doing them for myself. And that's why it never would have worked out for us. There was no "us". There was only him and me for him. But that's the beauty of hindsight.

Anyway, thinking about all of this helps me keep the past in perspective. I won't be getting drunk anytime too soon and start dialing his home--or work.

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