Tag Archives: Ex

Moving On Up

apartment_cartoonI’m moving. That’s right, I’m actually moving from my little shoebox in the heart of Dublin 6 and I’m moving a whole southside postcode away to Dublin 8. I’m moving into a great apartment that’s way bigger than where I’ve been for the last, ahem, 7-ish years [OMG! I’ve been here 7 years?] and so I’m also moving out of Rathmines.

I’m very familiar with my new place as it’s actually where my eh, Ex used to live. Is that a bit weird? He used to live there, he has moved out! Hell, I practically lived there for months bar a few weeknights when I’d actually trundle home to my shoebox to pick up more clothes and bits and pieces. Are you thinking it’s weird that I’m moving into my Ex’s place? Oh! He’s def not there anymore, he moved out a while back into a place he owns in order to do it up and for a change of scenery. So, when I move in, it’ll be just me. And the reminders of all the time the two of us were in the apartment. Nice.

So, why am I moving in? Well, I really like the apartment and I do think I’ve been in Rathmines too long. HQ will always be there and I can go visit whenever I want. And sure the other regulars will always be there as well! And while the rent is higher than what I pay at the moment, I’m still getting this place at less than the going rate – which is too bargainicious to turn down, right? I know the area I’m moving too and as it’s city centre, I’m only 10 minutes walk from Grafton Street. I’d be stupid not to move in. Has the weirdness subsided? How about I tell you that my Ex’s Mother owns the apartment? Yeah, she does. And now that my Ex is my Ex, I’ve met his mother. She’s delighted I’m moving in as we’re getting on like a house on fire!

So between now and next week there’s a few things to do; properly clean my new place, yes, the guy left it not quite clean enough, what a shocker! I was there yesterday, oh I already have keys, and while I got over the weirdness of being back there on my own, there’s a bit of elbow grease required to have it gleaming. I need boxes, I need to throw out I’m guessing one third of my crapstuff, I need to pack, I need to be able to get into the car park with moving van, which entails a call to the management company for a key or keypad code [the ex didn’t drive], I need to activate the ESB and NTL, I need to order [but not pay for] a new fridge freezer and cooker and be there when they’re delivered, I need to coordinate couch suite swapping with my new landlady, I need to unpack and then I need to relax!

Sure nothing to it! And yes, I’ve already mentally decided where everything will go and what I need to get to put my own stamp on my new place! And I would think the Ex will be putting in an appearance at some stage, make sure I haven’t run out of milk or something…

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On Loop

blonde-goth-21Jesus. For the last while, try couple of weeks, I can’t stop thinking about some of my Ex’s. And when I’m not thinking about one of them, I’m bursting into a blast of Kylie’s ‘Can’t Get You Outta My Head’. I feel like I’m going to explode with frustration! And the thing is, I’m not thinking about one or two specifically, just kinda having those cringe-filled fleeting flashes of past events. No! Not those ‘kind of events’! Just of the ‘OMG – now he was an asshole’ type moments or ‘That was weird the way he disappeared’ or ‘Oh, just because he was nice but dull doesn’t mean he really deserved another date’ type ponderings.

I’m blaming that ex for so randomly getting in touch a few weeks ago and the fact that I found myself with a lot of time to think while cat sitting. Now, I’m so over the ‘Who does he think he is?’  bloody mindedness of those bolt from the blue emails and I still couldn’t care less about him, truth be told, he hasn’t popped up in any of my thoughts as he was never a runner and details about him are hazy, him being a fairly bland person overall. But I’m finding it difficult to categorize how I feel about different exes. I mean, once someone becomes an ex, chances are they are labelled an asshole until you can drag yourself out of your self imposed cotton wool cocoon and well, by then you’ve stopped caring, so that kind of asshole can do what they like from then on anyway!

I suppose I’m also trying to figure out what kind of an impact certain exes had on me. There would’ve been a number of fleeting, casual encounters that involved meeting up every so often for a bit of a laugh and then after a while I couldn’t care less if I either bumped into them when I was with someone else or simply never again. Insert a hugeamount of eyerolling here – a huge amount. I like to thoroughly research a subject before coming to a conclusion but I definitely have met enough assholes to cover any kind of statistical sample number needed to confirm that they exist.

I mean, certain foods, certain songs, certain little habits – do I have any now that I know I can attribute to a specific person that I spent a small, medium or large amount of time with? One ex was very into Science Fiction and while everyone goes through a phase of it at some stage, most likely in college, I always hated missing EastEnders on a Monday night because the compromise was that he got to watch ‘Deep Space Nine’. I ended up watching it with him each week but haven’t been pulled to Science Fiction of any kind since. A strange one is that I haven’t eaten a packet of Salt n Vinegar Hula Hoops for about 10 years as a certain 3 or 4 date guy was once eating a packet when I bumped into him, before he was consigned to the ‘Asshole Pile’. Aussie hairstuff is the same – I have not and will not ever touch that stuff due to a bottle of its shampoo adorning the bathroom of a Class A Asshole [and apparently the ‘3Minute Miracle’ or whatever treatment is meant to be great!]. Jeez, now I’m wondering if some of them have turned me into a complete freak! 

I’ve lived in Dublin for quite some years now, so I’m always bumping into someone I knew from way back – be they someone I was in school with, a friend that I drifted away from or someone there was a little romance with. I’ll say hello, do the chat thing. But if it’s someone I’m not in contact with right now, I won’t ask for their number, even in a flaky, ‘we must go for a drink’ type way, I hate all that bull. I’ll just say that it was good to catch up – inevitably, even if I’d rather walk on hot coals than spend another 5minutes in that person’s company, it’s good to see how much older they look, how I’m soo not jealous of the 3 kids pulling out of them wanting the toilet, the where did you get him or her thankfully I don’t have to put up with that in a current partner nightmare and finally, it’s always good when the person, especially the ex that you bump into, says something whereby a whole range of things come flooding back and you realise that you’re glad you got out when you did. Really glad.

Ex Marks the Spot

X-Letter-XPeople come and go, a bit like buses, always or mostly always on the move. Situations change. Good things happen and not so good things happen. A bit like ex’s – some are good and some, well, definitely not so good.

‘Ex’ should mark the spot because ultimately, where ever and whenever the break up happened, it should stay there. I really am a firm believer in that, even though and don’t get me wrong, I’ve lameted a few that got away and perhaps in a nostalgia tinged moment years later wondered ‘what if?’, when it comes down to it, there’s no point living in the past.

Now I sound like that bloody book, ‘It’s called a break-up because it’s broken’..  I digress…

What I’m getting at here is essentially the fact that I’m not too fond of just looking up a past loves ‘just for old times sake’. Not a very Mills & Boon thing to say, but I just don’t see the point – you’ve moved on, they’ve moved on, everyone is older and the hope of happily ever after is the reality of a mere fleeting glimpse of contentment that comes along far less than you’d like it to.

I got an email from an ex last week, simply asking if I ‘was still around?’, just that, a one liner! I mean, what kind of an email is that? I wasn’t going to reply but I thought about it and a day or two later, I was in a generous mood so I replied. I told him that I was. Said how I’d changed jobs, told him where I was working and said that I was still living where I did when we went out. It wasn’t a 3 line email, it was friendly yet non committal, ie in girl code, I didn’t ask any deliberate questions that he might feel inclined to answer apart from a last line of ‘how are you?’ out of politeness.

I got a reply within a matter of hours. It was all upbeat and chatty, even longer than my reply. I read it in work and it was almost like a wave of disgust came over me – why was this guy mailing me? It’s been like 4 years. It was a very casual thing anyway and one day I just didn’t reply to his text nor pick up his subsequent phone call. Yeah, you’re right, I just couldn’t be arsed. Then I got to thinking… This guy was due to get married about 2 years ago. He met someone very soon after me and texted me to say he’d met someone else that he was really, really into – he sounded happy so I thought good luck to him. Then I bumped into him a few months later and he told me he was engaged. I fake smiled at him, whether he copped on to my insincerity or not, he was too busy telling me he was absolutely delighted for himself as he really, really wanted to get married and have kids. Whatever! Go do your thing. It really doesn’t factor high on my list of things I’m so happy about I could burst.

They were due to get married about a year and a half after that. I presume they did get married. I presumed they were still married until I started wondering why, if they are married, is he contacting me? Especially after all this time. Why would you contact an ex if you were happy with someone else? Why would you want to contact an ex if you’re not happy and risk find out that they’re living the absolute life of Reilly in daily raptures of complete joy? [Ok, Ok, I’m getting a little carried away but last thing you want to hear when you’re sad is that your ex is bordering on deliriously happy].

I just don’t get why he contacted me. And I definitely am not swayed by that old chestnut of him ‘just wanting to know how I was getting on’ – yeah right, something definitely smells a bit fishy. Did he get married? Is he still married? I don’t know. He used the very vague ‘…still working in XYZ place but might move on soon.. living in abc so I can walk to work…’ type of communication. No ‘I’m living’ or ‘We’re living’ – there was no mention of anyone else.

Anyway, the bottom line was that once I got thinking I decided to let him know where he stood. In his second email, amonst other things, he had asked how I had ended up working where I am now. My second email to him was very succinct, to the point. I answered his question, explained that my day to day job is now the flip side of what I used to do, said I like it and signed off. It wasn’t a rude email but it wasn’t a friendly one with questions galore to keep the new found old friendship going. No questions, no ‘talk soon’ or ‘keep in touch!’ – bleugh! I hate those crappy sayings that people reel off when they mean the opposite but give in to using the standard fob off type line.

To quote the very quotable Samantha Jones, ‘If you sleep with an ex and it’s good, you’re pissed off you’re not with them and if you sleep with an ex and it’s bad.. well.. then you’ve just slept with an ex’. And that’s tragic.

The Ex Factor – Would Ye Just Feck Off?!

What is it about bumping into Ex’s when you least expect to? It has to be one of THE most annoying things ever. Now, it’s all grand if you do so while looking absolutely fabulous, the I’m-so-sad-I-can’t-eat weight you lost after the split has stayed off and you’ve a handsome young fella on your arm, not so great if you’re in pyjamas putting out the bins. And then there’s the fact that it’s about 2 years since you broke up, after only going out for about a month and you now find yourselves neighbours so you see him more than ever. Truth be told, you don’t give a sugar about him and always get caught actually stopping for a chat rather than getting away with a nod and a ‘hello’ from across the street.

And of course, once you bump into him, you end up fecking bumping into him all the time! Like the guy I was seeing for about 6 weeks until I realised that his workload meant very little time for going out and this was also the reason why he’d want to stay in bed all day Sunday, sleeping. I got bored with him and just couldn’t be bothered meeting up again. Well, I chose not to meet him again but sure that only meant I started bumping into him about twice a week for the next couple of months! In the supermarket, in the newsagents, on the street, in the launderette and he worked near me too so I barely went further than the end of the street at lunchtime. When we met, it was the ultimate in smalltalk that was only ever exchanged,

‘How are you?’, ‘Grand, how are you?’, ‘Grand as well, things alright with you?’, ‘Yeah, what about you?’, ‘Yeah.. anything strange?’, ‘No, no news.. what about you?’.. and so on.

Now, for the first few times I made an effort to be civil but when making conversation became like getting blood from a stone, I just had to ask myself what we talked about when we were going out. And then I decided that I just couldn’t be bothered and I’ve actually pretended I haven’t seen him the last few times our paths have crossed. Mind you, I can still laugh at the first time we bumped into each other after breaking up; Continue reading

Just SAY it!!

So, there I was, at the bar in HQ, it was getting on for last orders and I decided to go home, there wasn’t many people about. But I did an about turn when one of my radars started bleeping. Up to the other end of the bar I waltzed. A guy I know was talking to a previously unseen, very good looking male! So, I’m in with the chat, ‘I’m great, Glitter, how are you?’ etc and then I was introduced to Hairboy. Hairboy was really cute, more than cute, dark hair, dark eyes [feck the fact that he had his dreads tied up into a huge ponytail effort] and very gentlemanly, even insisting on buying me a drink. After that it was all chat, chat, chat and so easy to forget that the reason I was there, the guy I know, was somewhere in the background.
Hairboy wanted to know where I lived, what I did, the usual. Hairboy insisted on buying me another drink. Hairboy asked if I wanted to go to a late bar down the road. Hairboy wanted to know stuff about me and before long we’re talking in quotes from songs as we have the same taste in music.
In the late bar, very late into the night, my mind started wandering. Continue reading

Sex with an Ex. Out Damn Image, Out!

 

I was standing at the bar in HQ, bit of banter with the barman who knows my order. Then I turn, drink in hand and practically fall into and over the EX. Not the ‘big ex’, just the last ‘ex’. I clocked his smile and I smiled back while trying to ensure the glass stayed in my hand and remember if I still had any lipstick on. ‘How are you?’, I beamed. ‘How are YOU?’ asked him with the smile back. ‘I’m great [you’re only ever ‘great’ when an ex asks] Howareyou? [smile, I asked again]. So how is work I mean?’. After a brief exchange and with perhaps too much of a ‘breezy’ air à la Monica in ‘Friends’, I waltzed away wondering if he actually had more to say when we were going out.

 

Hours and several bourbons later, my mouth as dry as biscuit tin with nothing but a packet of Rich Tea for company, I tried to blink it away! Out! Out NOW! The vision before me was a shagalicious 70’s type bedroom with me and the ex getting hot and heavy to Number 47 of the Karma Sutra! OhMyGodandnowI’vejustwokenup. Well, I think I’ve woken up.. It’s dark. There’s no noise. Reaching where I don’t really want to reach, I conclude that it’s just me in my little bed. The light confirms it before I can exhale.

Bloody Nora! Eh, hello Subconscious – WHY did YOU want to have sex with the ex tonight? I certainly didn’t! I’M OVER HIM, REMEMBER? And for the record, it was me that wanted out of that particular dalliance, but that didn’t stop me being annoyed and surprised at him reverting back to being a 5-year old when we broke up.

Then I couldn’t get back to sleep. Tch! Why did you try to pull that one, Subconsious? I soo don’t want to get back with him! It was months ago. I waited until daylight before hitting Google – well, I don’t want to appear a complete loon, even to myself. And I found it somewhere that dreaming about sex with an ex means that you ARE actually over him. That’s good enough for me. NEXT!