Ex Marks the Spot

It’s over. Actually it’s been over. Really it’s been over for over four years now. So why do I sometimes still think about her?

I’ve moved on, started a new family, I have a new baby on the way, and I’m moving into a new house with my new family and my new baby which I can now afford because of my new job. Everything in my life is new but I just can’t seem to shake off some of those old memories.

Why does this happen?

I’ve had this conversation many times before with a few of my male acquaintances and they all basically have been through the same situation. People (women in particular) believe that a man’s decision making process must function at some futuristic super computer level of unparalleled proportion because we are often times so assertive and direct. In reality (most men) make quick decisions based on some level of logical processing but mostly on the fact that there is a decision to be made. Unfortunately, this also involves decisions with an emotional component. Men don’t sit around eating ice cream with his friends while watching Grey’s Anatomy and talk about how mad he is at Sarah for not paying attention to his needs. NOT AT ALL! We’d rather just get over it and catch the game. We’d rather just bury it deep within our psyche on some desert island in the vast empty sea of our mind, hoping that no one ever digs up these painful repressed trinkets of our not often displayed “softer side.” But sometimes that doesn’t work.

So my previous relationship went on for about three years collectively. We broke up twice and actually started the whole thing out as just an “arrangement” and not a relationship in the first place. There was definite sexual chemistry beyond my wildest dreams and an intellectual connection that stimulated every cell in my mental processing unit. Everything was great except for the fact that this girl had “commitment issues.” Some days we would lay around and talk about the fairy tale of marriage, children, love, and happiness as though it was a yet to be written novel of our life. Then when I would talk seriously on the subject, the dark clouds would form overhead and that sweet fantasy would dissolve into a pool of excuse after excuse until it became a monsoon of arguments, cheating and ultimate betrayal. The (almost) perfect relationship ended before it ever was.