Running into an ex-coitus partner is always interesting. It usually feels like hitting a brick wall at full speed. I hate that wall. It's a wall filled with all these horrible emotions that I've successfully tucked away into a deep dark place for safe-keeping until hell freezes over. The wave of emotions come in three parts: one emotion for the initial contact, one for the conversation that occurs immediately after, and a completely separate emotion for the post-run-in aftershock (this emotion can last for an undetermined amount of time). Since these situations are always awkward for all involved, let's tear it apart and see if we can all start squirming in our seats, silently wishing for some kind of national disaster that would give us an excuse to STOP READING, even though secretly you like to put yourself through this torture for reason unbeknown to anyone, especially yourself.
1) The brick wall...
- Event: The actual physical act of running into the ex. (first glance/eye contact)
- Emotion: Fear, anger, stomach butterflies, visions of bleeding unicorns
- Reaction: Stop dead in current tracks, then a quick decision to either fight or flight
This is where I ALWAYS stick around to fight. Why? Who the fuck knows. I sure wish I knew. Because if I took the (arguably) more cowardly road of flight, the next two steps would be irrelevant.
2) The conversation that seems to last for-fucking-ever
"Hey! So good to see you!" "Yeah, you too" "How've you been?" ... long pause while you think about your options here... make it seem like things are FANTASTIC and never been better since the break? Tell the poor, pathetic truth? Make up a lie? Him 'em in the shins and run away screaming? ... "I'm good! You?" "I'm doing pretty well. How's the family?" This continues on for quite some time. Every now and then you'll get a good piece of gossip, or something funny or clever will pass through their lips and you'll be reminded why you allowed the do-it in the first place.
Then you find yourself standing there, awkwardly holding a dozen eggs (because, of course, you ran into him in the grocery store... so now he can see directly into your overflowing basket of food that's bad for you... DAMN IT, why didn't I put the veggies on top instead of the frozen mac and cheese... now he knows why I gained weight, and he knows that I'm not doing anything about it...). As you start to think about the details of the situation and he continues to talk (of course, the ONE goddamn day I don't wear make-up. Do I look at him in the eyes? Look around for people I know? People he knows? Are there any leprechauns nearby? I wonder what he's actually talking about... oh crap, don't drop the eggs! wait! don't squeeze the eggs too tight! What if you hold them too tight and one breaks right there in front of the two of you? Wait, why do you care? Seriously... loosen the grip! DON'T DROP THE EGGS!!!!)... "Yeah, it was good to see you too! We'll have to grab lunch sometime and catch up!" YEAH RIGHT.
3) How you handle yourself and your brain after the encounter
Walk away like you just don't care. Wag the ass a little bit so he notices you still got it, but not too much as to make him think he can have it. Whatever you do don't look back. Walk coolly to your car, get in, take a deep breathe and get the hell out of there. Now is the time to tear apart the entire conversation, rethink what you said, get upset about things you wanted to say and didn't, realize you were smiley, like, a lot, then remind yourself the shake it off and get over it. Tell all your friends, but act like you really don't care. Then fall asleep that night still freaked out and wishing it hadn't happened because, well, THOSE FEELINGS WERE MEANT TO STAY IN THAT DEEP DARK PLACE. What a bastard.
(Just another reason to stick with the theory that females are crazy, and leprechauns should exist)
(Do guys go through this hell and torture too?)
