Posted by: canaryinacoalmine | February 19, 2005

Shelf life

Some people treat their ex’s like a set of china dolls. You pick one off the shelf admire it, and remember the day it first came to you. You look at the doll and see how time has eclipsed it. In a jovial manner return it to the shelf. In every collection, there is the doll whose arm fell off, his suspender broke, and it has a strange odor. You try to muster the strength to play with the doll, but can not bring yourself to do so. It remains on the shelf, a distant memory of the day it came to you.

I had been very lucky to go 27 years with out having my heart broken. Call it lucky, careful, or guarded. It shattered but once. Of course there are the brief interludes where you decide to go separate ways and you carry on. Like the time an ex brought back a girl from Vegas. I turned the other cheek and walked out the door, never looking back. But this time was different. We met through a mutual friend at brunch. I’ll never forget seeing him walk through the door. After he sat down, I took a skill from negotiating 101 and began telling the table about the fabulous date I had the day before. As the hours of brunch flew by, we changed locations, drinks and dancing ensued, next thing I know… I have a date with him the following week. Wonderful days turned into weeks. I called my dad to tell him I WAS SMITTEN. My father looked at the caller ID to make sure it was his single daughter on the line. Was it really me – the ambivalent single gal? Yes, and I was on cloud 9. Several months into the relationship he started to push. I didn’t understand, and then he told me. His company was going to transfer him back to Florida. Moving for me, was not an option. So, we did the logical thing and ended the relationship. There were no phone calls pleading to hang out until he left as that would have only made it harder for both of us. Why lie to ourselves. I went through a period of feeling like I was falling to the bottom of the Grand Canyon. And then I picked myself up, dusted off my shoulders, and moved on.

Fast forward several months – his company changes management and it’s dynamic. Suddenly, he is not moving. Our mutual friend informs me of this and I relive the relationship in a matter of seconds in my mind. Then the hurt, anguish, and longing to spend time with him. He does not contact me, and I don’t contact him. Until, I am out running with a friend and I see him.
My gal pal says, “Hubba hubba did you see that guy?”
Me, “Yeah – that’s Shad.”
She, “Oh.”

Since then, he has sent me several emails and text messages trying to start a friendship at the very least. I debate with myself on how to handle this situation. I have never been the type of person to have the residual breakups. You know the cycle, break up, get back together, break up, etc. It’s worse than doing laundry.
I am friends with EVERY SINGLE GUY I have dated, except for him. When a person has hurt you so badly that it scars. Can you be friends with them? Is it possible to look past all the pain, and longing, and be friends? Would it break your heart to see them with another person? Of course we all want to think we are strong, larger than life characters and have the will to say, “I can handle this,” but I can’t. I can’t go back and I won’t go back. I have replied to his emails shutting them down and leaving him with no recourse. I’ve moved on, but still feel the pain.

There’s a sense of calmness coming from deep inside of me. The waters are clear and I am enjoying the view.

It’s usually about this time I lace up my running shoes and head out the door, in true roadrunner fashion. Never to be caught. Well, truth be told, I am tired of running. But am enjoying the ride 300%.

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