FUCKING EXES.

EXPLICIT CONTENT WARNING: I was very wary to post this, as I share some pretty intimate details. But as most of you aren’t my parents/parents friends/family, I thought…

Yolo. x

(Please don’t read on, if you are any of the above mentioned)

Anyway, Fucking exes…

I am notoriously good at this.

Well I say that, sometimes they’re not exes, just repeat encounters that reoccur annually like hay fever or Christmas. It only ever happens when I am in a very particular mood, in very particular circumstances. For example, It’s cold outside, I have no plans, as all of my housemates/friends (the rest of the world) are out with their significant other, I’ve recently had a wax and I’m feeling horny. This my friends, is the perfect condition for making bad decisions regarding ex partners.

Sometimes I think it’s better to re-visit anyway, so your number doesn’t get so big that you have to start counting on your toes or keeping a tally on the side of your bed. The ‘number’ issue is a whole other post in itself. I watched a film once, that said if you get to 20, thats it, no more chances, just have to keep going backwards to find ‘the one’.

(Really praying that’s not true).

With most of the people I have a history with, I’m not overly bothered, I could take it or leave it and most of the time I leave it, deciding I’d much rather stay in my pyjamas eating cereal than slide into their dm’s. I know in my right mind that its never worth it.

But then there’s the one exception. The one ex that I go back to, even though more often than not, it leaves me feeling sort of dirty or just completely hopeless.

And if truth be told, I’m not sure that I have ever actually enjoyed the sex or the chats or the snogging.

No that’s a lie, actually, I always enjoy the snogging.

I find it so bizarre that you can know someone so well, inside out, how they take their tea, where they keep their underwear and their signature dance move, but once you’ve broken up, every time you see them it’s a bit like getting hit in the face. First your heart just drops, and then the memories come flooding back, and then suddenly you’re making small talk like you’ve just met at a bar.

I have a tendency to be always over familiar. I take it right back to where we left off. Forgetting the heart break and the months of no contact. This often makes the other party feel uncomfortable, as if I may have forgotten that we are in fact broken up and never ever getting back together.

But this familiarity is what is so irresistible about your exes. That’s why we end up looking backward. No Tom, Dick or Harry (this phrase is so old school but kind of loving it in this context?) that you bump into on the street or in a bar has this level of knowledge. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes that’s a great thing. Often that’s exactly what we’re looking for. But on those days when all you want is comfort, no one off of Bumble will give you that, like an ex can. Your shared experience and your physical connection is like a blanket when you curl up on the sofa, it makes you feel warm and safe, and none of the shit stuff that happened between you matters.

Of course the only problem is, it does matter. Of course you broke up for a reason, and of course you want to move forward and not backwards. You don’t really want to rekindle your relationship with their family or their friends or their horrible habits (but you do with their dog, you always want to rekindle with their dog). But for that moment, when you see them again, I always think what if. What if it had worked, what if we’re different people now and what if the sex will be as good as it always was.

(Idealist)

I made this mistake a year ago when I went outrageously out of my way to see my ex. We decided that I would go to his, just to ‘hang out’ and catch up. I think I knew deep down what all of this was code for, but I hoped that there would be an epiphany of we made a mistake and let’s be happily ever after.

We spent most of the afternoon lying on his bed, my ideal of a countryside walk or long pub lunch quickly deteriorating. We spoke about things, but said nothing. Before long we had fallen into the habit of each others bodies, though it all felt different, yet the same, yet so different. The entire time that I was with him that afternoon, I couldn’t help but feel sad. Sad for what we had let go of, sad that it wasn’t quite the same, and sad that I had handed myself back to him so easily. He even got his ‘bodily fluid’ (such a palaver over what synonym of semen to use here) all over the skirt I was wearing, that I had kept the label on to take back. What a leaving present.

(You may think that this prevented me from returning said skirt, but oh no, I still returned it, baby wipes get rid of everything FYI.)

We both knew it was wrong, he felt nothing and I felt only bad things. I left, and rang Ellis in the car, half crying, half laughing about the semen skirt, that I then had to go straight to a family fireworks wearing. She told me it was fine, because I knew that I didn’t want him now. But I didn’t know that. All I knew is that I still missed the memory of him. And just because even he couldn’t live up to it, didn’t mean that I didn’t want that version of him back.

A year later and I’ve seen him again. I promised myself and most of my friends that I wouldn’t put myself into that situation, where I had to feel sad, under whelmed and nostalgic. But alas, we have mutual friends so avoiding him is almost impossible. At the start of the night we were civil, actually friendly, it was nice and for the first time since we broke up I felt powerful, not intimidated by him or in awe of him, as I always had been. We had a good night of pretending that we were just old friends, until the end of the night songs went all Al Green, and our eyes met, and then our hips met, and then our lips met.

As I said, I always enjoy the snogging. But as always, I dove into thinking that I was entitled to know everything that he was thinking, just because I once did. Luckily, I’m giving myself so much love at the moment that I didn’t feel sad, underwhelmed or nostalgic. I feel so trustworthy in what the universe or angels or crystal balls have in store for me, that I’m truly at peace with ‘what will be, will be’.

The question is, is going back to an ex a good idea? Discuss.

(Read this to Ali and Ellis allowed – BIG NO and a NEVER)

I would have always said no to my friends, before I started doing it myself. I’ve watched one of my best friends go through a long and painful break up recently, where going back to her ex made it both easier and harder. Really there is no right answer. Sometimes even the pain can help, but I think you have to be prepared for that. For pain. Looking at someone that you once let into every part of your life, and not really knowing them anymore, is painful. That can’t be denied. But in that pain, there is a lesson to be learnt. Only by feeling that emotion can you assess whether going back is what you need or want.

Its tbc with this specific ex of mine. (In my head that is, I’m sure he’s very much bc’d, as he’s yet to turn up outside my window with a bunch of flowers and a boom box). In my eyes I want him, because I haven’t yet been with anyone that set my world alight like he did.

Ella Mai – “I’ll never get over you, until I’ve found something new, that gets me high like you do.”

If it’s meant to be, it will be. If it’s not, the person that I have been waiting for will walk into my life, hopefully with no top on and a bottle of gin (for content obviously).

You just have to keep your head above water, write a list of what you need from them, and if they can’t give it to you now, then they’re not the one right now. Also, I think if it’s more hassle than the reward is, drop it and give the time you spend worrying or thinking about them back to yourself.

Fuck your ex, don’t fuck your ex. In the long run it doesn’t really matter, because the pain will make you stronger and the right outcome will prevail. Do what feels right for you, but I think always listen to your friends, they have an objective opinion which will sadly, always be the right one.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s