Back in high school (yes, we’re going back to ancient history here), I briefly dated a young man who couldn’t seem to stop talking about his ex-girlfriend. He had nothing nice to say about her, but all the same, every topic of conversation was a gateway to chatting about her.
After a while, I gently but firmly broke up with this young man, telling him that if he ever got over his ex-girlfriend, then maybe we could talk. He was stunned, insisting he already was over her, and reminded me that he never said anything good about her.
True enough. But it was evident that she was foremost in his mind, because she was always on the tip of his tongue, and I refused to play second place. Even as a naive high school girl, I knew there was something wrong, something unfinished, with someone who can’t stop blabbing about his ex.
(By the way, I turned out to be right. Any surprises there? Not long after I broke up with him, he got back together with the ex he swore he couldn’t stand. It didn’t last long, but maybe that time around, he finally found some closure).
Fast forward almost 30 years, and not much has changed. No, I’m not still listening to that fellow prattle on and on about his ex, but I am reminded in many ways, by many people, just how much my husband and I are on his ex’s mind.
I am reminded of that high school boy, claiming he was over his ex, swearing he hated his ex, yet always and forever more talking about his ex. Sounds very familiar! If, nearly 13 years after you split, you are still jabbering endlessly about your ex, then just face it: you are not over that person. You have unfinished business. Only you know precisely what that is. (And, more than likely, only you care what that is.) But for heaven’s sake, stop lying to yourself and everyone who is forced to listen to you, and just admit what everyone already knows anyway.
Something else hasn’t changed since those long-ago high school days: I still don’t have any patience for senseless drama. I didn’t want to be part of that silly love triangle back then, and I don’t want to be part of immature games now. It’s sad that I was more of an adult before I was old enough to drive than so many people are now, in the midst of their mid-life crises.
Give me my family, my kitty, my books, my garden, and of course my blog, and I am happy. I don’t have any interest in much else going on around me. The older I get, the smaller my social circle gets, and I prefer it that way.
I can’t fathom being fascinated with what someone from my past is doing. I actually like my ex-husband, because at one time, I truly loved him, and I still think he is a good person. But I also have to admit I rarely think of him (that whole “ex” and not “current” thing). The idea of spending my days, this long after our split, foaming at the mouth in a frenzy to find out what he is doing, who he’s with, what she’s like, where they are going…bah, I can’t even work up the energy to finish the sentence. I just have so much else to think about and devote my attention to, in my life NOW.
Maybe that is the root of the problem for people like Psycho. There is nothing in their lives now that matters nearly as much as something (or someone) who used to be there. Knowing that so many people have exited your life because they choose life without you over life with you…well, I’m sure that sucks. But I’m also sure that at some point, some deep self-examination is in order, when key people from your childhood through your adulthood are repelled and seek better options elsewhere.
Harsh? Maybe. But also true. Obsessing over the past and people who no longer care won’t change anything. Refusing to be honest won’t let you see where the problem originates, and not being adult enough to admit the problem might be staring back at you in the mirror just means you will always be stuck in one place, gazing backward, reaching for something that isn’t there anymore and doesn’t want to be there. Because life marched right past, long ago, and is way, way ahead of you.
Sweat & Sparkle 