You ever get the feeling that some people just want to know they still have an effect on you?
So. The Ex.
The long and short of it- we dated for 6+ years. He was a bit of an alcoholic, and I was a bit of a pushover. We pretended that we were going to stay friends after we split up, but it mostly ended up in his new girlfriend stalking me, apologies (with seemingly ulterior motives), and awkward silences. I last saw him around a year and a half ago, and apparently we both, without saying anything, knew that despite there never being a big angry blowout, it was time for us to both stop pretending. And thus, outside of the occasional text message from him every few months, we stopped talking.
It was actually pretty comfortable to stop pretending we had very much to say.
In February, the first call in months. He asks me to be an apartment reference, for he is moving in with his new girlfriend, the one he met a month and a half earlier, who thankfully is his age and doesn't make a hobby out of sending me passive-aggressive emails. I agree out of some sort of obligation I don't even understand, given the fact that he needs me to serve as a reference because his rent cheques always bounced, leaving me to patch things up with our landlord. I never get a call.
After that, a few weird comments on Facebook, that I can only assume occurred when he was drunk, as they are nonsensical and disappear by the next morning. One is about our dead cat.
And then nothing for close to a year. Last month, I noticed that Facebook suggests that he and I should be friends, revealing that he has deleted me. Sure, I had a little righteous indignation swelling up at first, pretending as though I should have been the one with the right to delete him-- after all, he added me!-- but then, relief. For now I don't need to know anything about him, and he doesn't need to know anything about me. I can be finally be really angry, indifferent, whatever, without him popping up randomly every once in a while-- online or in real life, now that we live in different cities.
I realized several days later that for the first time in nearly 10 years, I didn't wish him happy birthday. I didn't even remember it was his birthday.
And, a week after his birthday, a mysterious text message on my phone from a number I don't know. "Hi Princess, just wanted to say a quick hello, hope you are well."
(yes, foreshadowing sucks on this one, but at the time, I was genuinely clueless)
I rack my brain for the origins of this number, and then, feeling somewhat guilty about not recognizing it, text back: "Hi! I feel like a jerk, but I lost a bunch of my numbers, so I have no clue who you are."
I text the Duke about this mystery message, and how awkward it is to have to figure out someone's identity. Without skipping a beat, he writes back: "I bet it's TheEx."
Two seconds later: "Haha, I'm hurt! It's your favourite ex."
Who, now, apparently wants to catch up.
And has tricked me into responding with his new cell phone number that of course I would have no way of knowing.
And knows that, while I may not had responded to his initial message, had I know, I'm pathologically incapable of being even a justifiable asshole, and have to respond once a conversation has been "officially started".
And, the whole time, I'm thinking that to delete me on Facebook and then to want to catch up weeks later is just the kind of hypocrite he is.
And I just play it cool, because I don't want him to know that I noticed in the first place.
Does anyone want to give me some lessons in justifiable assholishness?