It was my birthday a couple weeks ago, and among other birthday greetings, I received an email from my ex wishing me a nice day and wondering how I was doing. N and I hadn’t spoken for many months after a few tense conversations, but I had thought about him from time to time, curious to know how his summer internship had gone, and how he was doing in general. However, I didn’t want to be the first to make contact since my leaving was a big shock to him. We’ve been apart for nearly a year now, and I am a happier, better person. If he wasn’t, I didn’t want to make it look as though I was rubbing it in his face.
In a follow-up email, he mentioned he’d been seeing someone since April, which, for me, made it seem safe to meet to talk. We agreed on a cup of coffee on a Sunday afternoon. As I walked from the car to the cafe, I smoked a cigarette and stayed calm: this would be no big deal, and really, it probably needed to be done since we lived in the same town and ran the risk of running into each other anyway. As soon as I saw him break into a huge smile upon realizing it was me walking toward me, I knew it might be trouble.
N and I sat for about 45 minutes, going back and forth on events, jobs, school, and families. But there was so much I wasn’t telling him: that I was in love with J; that I spent half my nights out, drinking and hanging out with friends; that I didn’t miss him at all, and felt sort of disgusted to think we’d ever been together; that he was essentially my big mistake, and that I really didn’t want to think about him at all anymore, and most days, didn’t. I’m not sure what he wasn’t telling me, but I honestly don’t think there was much for him to say, since he seemed to be doing exactly the same things with the same people at the same times as he had when we were still together. I kept thinking how grateful I was that I no longer had to endure his boring existence. I could see in his eyes that he still felt something for me, still pictured me as the thing he wanted me to be, the thing which I am not now and will never be again.
N is okay–he’s not a bad person, and I didn’t leave him because he did anything wrong, per se. I know a million people out there have spent too much time in a relationship with someone who was so clearly wrong for them, but it still baffles me that I could have been with N for nearly 8 years without seeing it–without wanting something better for myself. I can blame it on my youth, or my insecurity, or the fact that he changed, and I changed, but there’s still this black hole that seems to have pulled those 8 years from me. I am now who I was before I met him, but I was not that person when we were together. I keep trying to replay the early years to see what it was that kept me hanging onto him, mostly so that I will not fall into that trap again. Was I attracted to him? Did I just want what he had to offer as a one-day successful lawyer/businessman? Did I like the fact that he was smart, and he challenged me academically? Did I like that he was wholesome, and was I letting my maternal instinct guide me to someone who would want a house and children and pets? I think yes, to all of these things. I got what I thought I wanted with N, and then discovered that it was not actually what I wanted at all. I’m not ruthless or smart enough to keep up with Wall Street, I’m certainly not wholesome, and I hate suburbia and am not even sure I like kids. Perhaps if I had waited a little longer before really jumping in with N, these things would have become clear, especially after we left the bubble of our Christian college.
As I got back into my car after that awful cup of coffee, I felt sick. I didn’t want to see N anymore: the memories were too disturbing, and I’ve clearly moved on from that phase of my life. I know it happened, and I can’t change it, and it brought me to where I am today, but there is no reason that I have to relive it, so I won’t. The things that are important to me now–J, my job, my friends, and even my cats, I can’t share with N–we can only get so far before there has to be a wall of protection for both of us. I wish him the best, but I think it’s better if we just leave what’s done alone.
