I Don't Want To Be Your Friend
I've never understood people who manage to remain friends with their exes. I've only done it the once, and strictly by necessity.
Usually when I dump someone it's my little way of saying, "Hey, you know what would be great? My life, without you in it." And when I get dumped, I'm too hurt or angry or dumbfounded to even think about spending time with someone so evil, who, by the way, will never find anyone who loves him as much as he loves himself. Friends? No thanks.
Almost all breakups are, to some degree, unpleasant. They are messy and painful and at the bottom of it, somebody just isn't .... something enough. It's rejection, no matter how you tart it up and trot it out. And while it is possible to eventually get past the hurt/regret/anger/resentment and find something resembling neutral territory, honestly, why bother? Go out and make a new friend already.
Here is something I have learned: there are only three reasons someone would break up with you and want to remain friends. Either 1) they harbor guilt and feel the need to reassure themselves repeatedly that you are in fact OK after losing the wonderment that is them, 2) they want to keep you on the back burner Just In Case, or 3) they can't stand the thought of someone out there actually disliking them.
I think in the Ferrari's case, it's a super-fun mixture of all three.
My last communication with him was very clear. He'd done something unintentional yet unforgivable. I blasted him for it via email. He offered a rather lame apology and then tried to turn things conversational. How was I? Was I writing much? How's the weather in Chitown? I did not reply. Nine months passed. Then I got the "Whoops, didn't mean to call YOU" voice message with accompanying texts. I did not reply. Now comes the email. The sorry-I-drunk-dialed-you-hope-you're-good-I-think-about-you-sometimes-you-meant-so-much-to-me email. The please-write-back-and-let-me-know-how-you're-doing email. The Let's Be Friends email. And it's bullshit.
I don't want to be his friend. I don't want to wax nostalgic over the "good" old days. I don't want to know how his life is turning out or what he's working on right now or how he's wearing his hair or if he has a pimple. I just want him to stay away, so I can close the door on that part of my life. I've moved on. Time for him to move on too.
And anyway, I have enough friends.
Usually when I dump someone it's my little way of saying, "Hey, you know what would be great? My life, without you in it." And when I get dumped, I'm too hurt or angry or dumbfounded to even think about spending time with someone so evil, who, by the way, will never find anyone who loves him as much as he loves himself. Friends? No thanks.
Almost all breakups are, to some degree, unpleasant. They are messy and painful and at the bottom of it, somebody just isn't .... something enough. It's rejection, no matter how you tart it up and trot it out. And while it is possible to eventually get past the hurt/regret/anger/resentment and find something resembling neutral territory, honestly, why bother? Go out and make a new friend already.
Here is something I have learned: there are only three reasons someone would break up with you and want to remain friends. Either 1) they harbor guilt and feel the need to reassure themselves repeatedly that you are in fact OK after losing the wonderment that is them, 2) they want to keep you on the back burner Just In Case, or 3) they can't stand the thought of someone out there actually disliking them.
I think in the Ferrari's case, it's a super-fun mixture of all three.
My last communication with him was very clear. He'd done something unintentional yet unforgivable. I blasted him for it via email. He offered a rather lame apology and then tried to turn things conversational. How was I? Was I writing much? How's the weather in Chitown? I did not reply. Nine months passed. Then I got the "Whoops, didn't mean to call YOU" voice message with accompanying texts. I did not reply. Now comes the email. The sorry-I-drunk-dialed-you-hope-you're-good-I-think-about-you-sometimes-you-meant-so-much-to-me email. The please-write-back-and-let-me-know-how-you're-doing email. The Let's Be Friends email. And it's bullshit.
I don't want to be his friend. I don't want to wax nostalgic over the "good" old days. I don't want to know how his life is turning out or what he's working on right now or how he's wearing his hair or if he has a pimple. I just want him to stay away, so I can close the door on that part of my life. I've moved on. Time for him to move on too.
And anyway, I have enough friends.
Tequila Red called it a day @ 11:02 AM
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