It's a fat day. I went out for dinner with an ex, so obviously should have been preparing all day and not eating, but, alas, I had a Sunday roast and then fell asleep with about twenty minutes to get ready. I only changed outfits once and didn't brush my hair (luckily I was working the just got out of bed look- literally) and my make up was pointless as it melted off due to the heat on the tube. I then went on to meet my ex, ate an obscene amount of dim sum and went on to a pub where I made a big deal of choosing the cheapest thing on the wine list, only to find that a spritzer is, in fact, more expensive than a large glass of wine. I proceeded to make a fuss and proclaimed that "all cheap wines taste the same anyway" and a fiver was just an extortion of the student population, comparable, to say, slavery in 19th century America. On the tube home with him, I burped- spritzers are so damn gassy- and we went on to gossip about people we had gone to school with when I made some very unsavoury comments about his friends without attempting to sugar coat.At the end of the evening, he smiled at me and said, "Stef, the spark, it hasn't completely gone, has it?""I don't think it's supposed to." I replied and hopped out his car before it could go any further.
Meeting an ex, well not just an ex, but an ex-love, an ex-everything, is not supposed to be like this. Anyone would be able to tell you that. You are supposed to care a little more about how you look, how you behave and the things that you say. Not me. There I was, insulting his friends, making ignorant comments, eating like a ravenous dog rather than anything human and still, at the end of the evening, we agreed that we'd like to see each other again and that "this whole friendship malarkey isn't actually that bad." There we have it. My one and only friendship with an ex-boyfriend. To be honest though, most of the time I have either been to bitterly hurt to consider friendship with boys or been such a bitch that other guys want nothing to do with me. The point is though, I was totally myself... And it was fine.
Why is it that it is generally considered so difficult to be friends with an ex, or even be yourself around them once you have already terminated the relationship, for one reason or another? It seems like people forget that exes were once the biggest part of their respective lives and that these are people they have been sick in front of, been hungover and disgusting looking around, heck, discussed bowel movements with, yet have to put on a facade of having 'moved on' and of being happy and fabulous without them. Which, as a concept, is just ridiculous. Most of the time, the great loves in your life have had a massive effect on you and your life, and, in a way, have helped form the person that you have become. Pretending otherwise is both transparent and insulting because you secretly hope that you have had a profound impact on their lives as well. Most people blame the elusive ‘spark’ as a reason as to why exes cannot be friends, but what better way to found a solid friendship than with someone who knows you back to front? A friendship with an ex doesn’t always work, but if you’ve screamed at someone until your voice is hoarse, (“What do you mean she’s attractive in a different way?! Fuck off and leave me for her then you bastard!”) and blamed them for everything shit in your life and they still care about you, it’s stupid to let a person like that out your life. To quote a friend of mine, “if they can deal with the crazy, don’t let them go”.
Is it weird that I still feel some sort of je ne sais quoi for a boyfriend that I broke up with over a year ago? My friends would say yes, "remember how much shit he put you through, Stef?" and "the spritzer could have put false ideas in your head, are you sure it was really there?". But I honestly believe that if you've ever had a really committed and intense relationship with someone, especially during your defining late teenage years, then the spark will never completely dim. An ex is called an old flame for a reason, and if you add all the memories to a spark that was there to begin with, and add a couple of ill advised post break-up, for want of a better word, shags, then what are you left with? Now I'm not saying I'm still madly in love with this guy and want to run off and have his babies tomorrow, in fact, my feelings for him are totally platonic and friendly. Even so, there’s a strong connection of some kind, at least, that, for now, is unwavering. Can the remaining spark be seen as a measure of the greatness of a relationship?
I am a bit of an idiot when it comes to deciphering feelings though, and the spark itself is an ambiguous concept. I, many times, have fooled myself I’m in love with someone when, actually, it’s just that enough time has passed with the spark still there that I know I should be. I still believe I have a spark with a guy I only spent about fourteen hours with (problem is, he lives in Australia so I guess I’ll never know for sure). And for months I hung around this no sparks guy, only to very suddenly and shockingly realise that he gave me butterflies whenever he said my name.
Sometimes the spark is a lasting side-effect of a great relationship, and other times the spark can lead somewhere magical, but just because sparks fly, it doesn't mean there's going to be a fire.
Meeting an ex, well not just an ex, but an ex-love, an ex-everything, is not supposed to be like this. Anyone would be able to tell you that. You are supposed to care a little more about how you look, how you behave and the things that you say. Not me. There I was, insulting his friends, making ignorant comments, eating like a ravenous dog rather than anything human and still, at the end of the evening, we agreed that we'd like to see each other again and that "this whole friendship malarkey isn't actually that bad." There we have it. My one and only friendship with an ex-boyfriend. To be honest though, most of the time I have either been to bitterly hurt to consider friendship with boys or been such a bitch that other guys want nothing to do with me. The point is though, I was totally myself... And it was fine.
Why is it that it is generally considered so difficult to be friends with an ex, or even be yourself around them once you have already terminated the relationship, for one reason or another? It seems like people forget that exes were once the biggest part of their respective lives and that these are people they have been sick in front of, been hungover and disgusting looking around, heck, discussed bowel movements with, yet have to put on a facade of having 'moved on' and of being happy and fabulous without them. Which, as a concept, is just ridiculous. Most of the time, the great loves in your life have had a massive effect on you and your life, and, in a way, have helped form the person that you have become. Pretending otherwise is both transparent and insulting because you secretly hope that you have had a profound impact on their lives as well. Most people blame the elusive ‘spark’ as a reason as to why exes cannot be friends, but what better way to found a solid friendship than with someone who knows you back to front? A friendship with an ex doesn’t always work, but if you’ve screamed at someone until your voice is hoarse, (“What do you mean she’s attractive in a different way?! Fuck off and leave me for her then you bastard!”) and blamed them for everything shit in your life and they still care about you, it’s stupid to let a person like that out your life. To quote a friend of mine, “if they can deal with the crazy, don’t let them go”.
Is it weird that I still feel some sort of je ne sais quoi for a boyfriend that I broke up with over a year ago? My friends would say yes, "remember how much shit he put you through, Stef?" and "the spritzer could have put false ideas in your head, are you sure it was really there?". But I honestly believe that if you've ever had a really committed and intense relationship with someone, especially during your defining late teenage years, then the spark will never completely dim. An ex is called an old flame for a reason, and if you add all the memories to a spark that was there to begin with, and add a couple of ill advised post break-up, for want of a better word, shags, then what are you left with? Now I'm not saying I'm still madly in love with this guy and want to run off and have his babies tomorrow, in fact, my feelings for him are totally platonic and friendly. Even so, there’s a strong connection of some kind, at least, that, for now, is unwavering. Can the remaining spark be seen as a measure of the greatness of a relationship?
I am a bit of an idiot when it comes to deciphering feelings though, and the spark itself is an ambiguous concept. I, many times, have fooled myself I’m in love with someone when, actually, it’s just that enough time has passed with the spark still there that I know I should be. I still believe I have a spark with a guy I only spent about fourteen hours with (problem is, he lives in Australia so I guess I’ll never know for sure). And for months I hung around this no sparks guy, only to very suddenly and shockingly realise that he gave me butterflies whenever he said my name.
Sometimes the spark is a lasting side-effect of a great relationship, and other times the spark can lead somewhere magical, but just because sparks fly, it doesn't mean there's going to be a fire.
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