Added: Ranita Madore - Date: 09.02.2022 13:24 - Views: 27402 - Clicks: 1157
For the first time in nearly two decades, I am talking to my ex-girlfriend. Suzanne not her real name is on the other end of the phone and is just as nervous as I am about this first discussion in 18 years.
Our apprehension quickly fades, though, as the banter flows casually and unforced. This comforting familiarity comes long after each of us has gotten married to other people and had children, long after things in our relationship went spectacularly wrong, long after I squashed any chance of ever speaking again. I never meant to put you through any of that. We had dated for two years and I believed we would marry. We never had a throw-a-glass-against-the-wall kind of fight. We never called each other names. We never did anything to achieve any sense of closure. The relationship had been so good for so long and the ending so non-confrontational, so polite, that her engagement sent me into a tailspin.
Now, well into my 40s, I've gotten to an age where the siren of the past calls me. I know I'm blessed. I have two children and enjoy a hectic and rewarding life. It does something to your soul, it does something to your mind, your heart.
A pall of self-doubt and self-loathing cloaked over me. My opinion of her fell somewhere between robocalls and root canals. Our relationship had been healthy — she the gregarious yin to my socially awkward yang. We were two somethings from similar backgrounds looking to make our mark on the world. There had been s of trouble, though. She yearned to get out of what she called a rut. I was there, too, a few days before we broke up. The engagement made me question her honesty. I was humiliated that I witnessed those first sparks, feeling like a footnote in someone else's love story.
To Suzanne, though, the rut had been real. In her eyes, we had been drifting apart and the breakup was not done on a whim.
She regretted some mistakes and the split was hard on her, even if it turned out to be the right decision. But she, too, has felt the tug of nostalgia. Any hostility that existed is long gone and we both repeatedly say we enjoy speaking again, even as voices rise because we don't agree about how she handled the breakup.
But, as we wind down, Suzanne chides me for creating the fiction that our relationship meant nothing to her because she moved on so swiftly. The time period means something to her, too. For so long, I thought the end meant I never mattered when, in fact, I always did.
Life experience enables us to now look at the past with wonder instead of resentment. I found joy with my wife and stopped missing Suzanne. What I didn't stop missing was the time of my life she symbolized: the discovery of what I wanted to do, the fun of going after it and the promise of youth that you fully understand only with age. Suzanne and I know each other so well, yet hardly at all. Time didn't necessarily heal the wound as much as help us realize that we are lucky we got to know each other. The breakup and what followed dogged us in different ways, but led to the lives we each have now.
Eventually our call wraps up, neither one of us knowing exactly what happens from here. We throw out the line of getting together sometime with our spouses, neither of whom minds us closing the loop. We say our goodbyes and I walk into my kitchen. My wife and kids are eating and I've missed the beginning of dinner.
A graduate of Rutgers University, he is the married father of two kids who believe he is ridiculous.
IE 11 is not supported. For an optimal experience visit our site on another browser. Share this —. Follow today. More Brands. By Drew Weisholtz. Hoda and Jenna swap stories about seeing their ones that got away Jan. Jenna and Willie exchange funny breakup stories June 7, Drew Weisholtz.Been several yrs
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