In New York, unless you’re stalking someone, it’s virtually impossible to run into a specific person. But, with my luck, it is possible to run into the same ex of recent time, and on the same train at 2 in the morning heading back from the city and back to our neighborhood.
Yeah. Fuck you, universe.
I have no idea, but I ran into the same ex twice.
But, the encounter wasn’t terrible. Though I hadn’t seen him since leaving his house in an upset, post-carnal fit two weeks beforehand, I wasn’t angry. If anything, I felt so surprised at seeing him and the sheer absurdity of running into him that I laughed my ass off. There is a part of me that believes quite deeply in the universe leading us to people we are destined to have in our lives; to me, there was a lesson to discover.
We had a good ride home laughing and just being agreeable. I left him on the stop before his, and as I did, I caught a small wistful smile on his face- one that was probably similar to my own. And upon walking home, I realized that there was no getting away from how I feel: in spite of our ups and downs, I love him regardless. And though we are not together, it doesn’t change that I care about him very much.
But, there was an extra thought that occurred to me- that, for all my complaints about him, for all my whinging and whining that I didn’t get what I need from this relationshp, I wondered- why don’t I just ask?
So, I called him, and laid myself out on the line. I let him know that I wanted a new relationship with him, one that wasn’t based around badly timed drunk sex. And, since I was reconnecting with the things around me without sex, drugs, or booze being a factor, I likewise said that I would love to reconnect with him on the same basis. I asked him to be my friend, and it almost felt like I was asking him out. But this is what I would like most.
I also admitted to some of my own unhappiness: for the longest time, the biggest chip on my shoulder has been feeling as though I have been a stand-in for someone he loves, a booty call backup of sorts. I no longer want to be that in his life, and to never feel that way again. (He was quiet at this part; I’m not sure what he exactly thinks of this, and I wish he would have added to the discussion. But, I suppose he needs time to digest this too. There’s nothing like running into your ex on a train, and then having her call with all sorts of pronouncements. Yup.)
The end result is that he agreed to my terms, and I feel a whole lot better. I’m glad I ran into him, because I figure the universe was nudging me towards actually opening up to him about how I feel, both good and bad. I never like admitting to my unhappiness; maybe it’s because I’ve grown up under a mother who tried using histrionic behavior to get love and attention, but when it comes to my unhappiness with a man, I am largely stoic. Where my mother bleated about being a dutiful yet unhappy wife, I am quiet.
And, I need to stop being so quiet, and to keep expressing the things I normally repress.
So, as far as the ex goes, I feel like that’s one less chip on my shoulder, one less burden to think of negatively; instead, he is someone I think of more positively. There’s no escaping that I care, and I’m quite glad he knows that I care about him as much as I do and that I’ve been unhappy. I think I’ve been afraid to speak of how I really feel, and thought that if I did, he would somehow not like me and not talk to me; I am wrong.
And, I am also likewise wrong about opening up, for I feel so much lighter. Granted, I am a little teary and weepy and emotional from actually speaking my heart and conscience, but it’s better than feeling stormy and like I’m ready to take out my angst on myself with cheesecake.
So, thanks Universe. You have a way of giving me a fucking heart attack with my exes, but maybe I’ll be able to grow and express myself for the better in the process.
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