Sometimes it’s easy to forget. With time and space away from a situation, you can lose details, nuance to it all. Occasionally, though, life reminds you of what you’ve forgotten.
Because of random happenstance, I not only saw my Ex at work tonight, which occurs from time to time, but I actually had a decent conversation with him. And we worked together a bunch. And it was kinda fun.
Initially I sat with him and chatted as we waited to begin our load out. I joined him in his truck. He apologized for the smoke filled cab. I felt it wise to not mention how used to smoke filled rooms I’d become.
As we talked about nothing of particular import, but nonetheless found ourselves laughing, I looked over at him and remembered, Right. I actually liked you.
I had forgotten I liked hanging out with my Ex, before he became my Ex. I forgot we shared a dark and sometimes wry sense of humor. I forgot about the deep bass voice. The smile, when I could glean it. The dominant air about him. And the way I felt when I was around him. Safe. Cared for. Protected.
For the briefest of moments, there was temptation. For five seconds maybe, I wondered what it would be like to be with him again. I wouldn’t be the me of seven years ago, new and unknowning. Nor would I be the girl who four years ago somehow mustered the courage to end it.
I would be the now me. Poetic Desires me. Fully realized confident kinky submissive and service top me. The bootblack. The cigar slut. The fisting phenom and proud dirty pig.
Yet, even as I recalled the layers of our past, the same reasons why I left him remained. He and I want two very different lives. He is not as emotionally mature as I am, nor is he trying to be (that whole never calling me his girlfriend and never saying ‘I love you’ part still hurts like a bitch) . He said some kinda fucked up shit (for instance, refusing to fool around while I was on my period, calling it “crime scene sex”). And he did some kinda fucked up shit (namely the one big incident that made me end it all).
However things played out, though, I feel it is a disservice to myself to forget the good parts. I was with my Ex for three and a half years for a reason. He was intelligent, whitty, caring, and protective. He was kinky and I was searching. He was a big part of my journey. I need to honor that, even as his influence on my life has subsided.
The night ended with my Ex giving me a high five. I like to think it was his was way of saying, Yup, the situation is a little awkward, but I still like you too.
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