Are You Friends With Your Ex?

Okay, I’ve always been bad at this…this whole “friends with your ex” thing.  In fact, I have a hard time understanding how others do it.  My post-relationship procedural is quite simple:  “If you are my ex, unless you are face down in a river somewhere, you are dead to me.”  And the “face down in a river” means I’ll only acknowledge you by whispering to my friends, “Did you see my ex?  She/ he was found, face down in that river.”


To me, in order for a relationship to be truly over, it has to be cut off like a limb gone gangrene.  I, truly, do not think this is too harsh.  If I have taken the time to let you into my heart and into the inner most circle of my life and into my bed, well, when it goes south, I feel that nothing short of an exorcism is in order.


“Go towards the light, Carol Anne.”


Other people remain friends with their exes.  They have play-dates with their ex’s kids and their new kids.  I do not understand how one does this.  All I would be thinking is a) you’ve seen me naked and b) you were an a**hole.  And I would find it hard to have any thoughts after that.


Lesbians are THE worst when it comes to this.  I’d say 90% of them remain friends with their exes.  I’m pulling the 90% out of the air to make it sound scientific.  I don’t have actual numbers, but the truth is that it happens A LOT.  This annoys me even more than when heteros do it because when girls who like girls do it, they end up forming this emotional threesome.  I don’t think they’re shagging together, but there is an emotional – if not a physical – threesome going on.


Wifesy had one with her ex.  Her ex had an ex and the THREE of them were constantly together.  You have got to be kidding me.  There is no way I could be involved in something like that.  No way.  I’m too greedy.  I’d be like, “Get your ex the f out of here.  I don’t like the way she looks at you.”


I’m too possessive.


I understand the value of my love and holding dear things dear.


And I feckin’ like it that way.


Thankfully, Wifesy has NO relationship with her ex.  They had one pet in common, this cat (yes, very lesbo, I know), and this feckin’ cat kept them communicating for a very short time after their breakup.  I have never said this before and I will – I’m sure – never say it again, BUT I have never been so happy for an animal to die in my entire life.


When that pussycat passed, finally, their p*ssies were severed.  (Well, not their actual p*ssies, but the bond between them.)  It left them with no reason to contact one another.


Get your claws out of my relationship, pussy-dear.


I tried to hide my elation while my Wifesy grieved the passing of her feline.  Thankfully, I was able to.  But, it was a long time ago and now I am coming clean.  I’m glad that cat went to the catsey heaven in the sky because I was ready to drown my Wifesy’s ex.


God, it feels good to say that.


I know there are people who will read this and think, “Wow, she’s tough.  Wow, can’t you just let it go when the relationship is over?”


Nope.  I can’t.  You see when I love, I love fully.  It’s a full body and mind kind of thing.  There are no halfsies or halfways.  So, when the relationship falls apart, there’s no going back to a less than relationship of “we’re just friends.”  I am better off swimming towards the next fish and forgetting that “genus” I left behind, all together.


Gratefully, like really, gratefully, this is not a problem any more.  Now that I am fully wed to the love of my life, I can keep these exes face down in the past.  Wifesy, lost a lot of friends in her breakup with her ex.  Initially, she felt bad about that.  You know how it is.  You have a breakup and some people go your way and others go the way of your ex.  It’s lame that people can’t find a way to stay friends with both of you, but they can’t.  Most of them are not capable.  Confrontation scares them.  They understood you as a whole, but separately you confuse them.


Wifesy had tried to re-connect with a few of her past friends that were satellite friends of her prior relationship and I have to say I am unimpressed.  There are a few choice ones who have come back, the full monty, but they are usually the ones who say to Wifesy, “I have to be honest, I never really liked your ex.”  Those are the ones I get along with the best.  The friends who have tried to come back gingerly, no way.  We’ve met up with a few on occasion, all I can think is, “Good riddance.”  Very, very few have seemed worth it to me.


In the end, I’m glad.  It gave Wifesy and I a clean break from all the utter nonsense.  Together we’re completely happy.  So, river-littered-with-my-exes and river-littered-with-my-Wifesy’s-exes, keep your cadavers.  Keep the ex-friends who went the other way.  We don’t give a sh*t about them.



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Medium, Crazy-Cat, heart-feature