I have an ex-boyfriend who is a huge ass. I call him an ex-boyfriend because there really is no word to describe what the brief flurry of our relationship was, and it’s the easiest word to describe him and he’s an ass. Our relationship lasted a grand total of a month and a half with a bonus weekend 3 months later. I’m not even sure you can call that a relationship, but there it was.
I have moments when I still get that pang in my gut like someone is stabbing me, but it hasn’t really hurt for about a year now. I can go to the places, and hear the songs and they are usually pleasant. I don’t have a deep and pressing desire to poke out anyone’s eye anymore. It means I can usually look back at the situation objectively (or somewhat objectively) and get a much better idea of what everything was. He’s an ass, so sometimes I think he was conning me. On the other hand, he put a lot of effort into caring about me, and one night he drank an entire bottle of tanqueray after a particularly trying day involving me before he had told me how he felt. Now, there could be millions of ways to interpret this stuff, but today, since nature outside is somewhat virulent, I’m feeling peaceful, and I can justly say that he loved me the best he could. At times like this, I get wistful and realize that somewhere deep inside, I can paraphrase Sarah McLachlan, because I have the sense to recognize that I don’t know how to completely let him go.
Ok, it has passed. Back to playstation.