It is one of those days where exes come out of the woodwork. Am I upset ? A lot less than the last time in May.
I still don’t know what happens. I am betting on a cosmic conspiration to make me lose my mind, or my hability to think and talk at the same time.
First thing this morning, a friend, who happens to be an ex just decided to come by work to give back some books I lent him. God…he smells good, he hugs heavenly, and he is just so damn likeable…sometimes. Thank goodness he has a girlfriend now. He’s just so easy to cuddle. Coffee is scheduled sometime during the next weeks.
Then someone I hadn’t heard of in years just popped out in Facebook and I’m kind of excited. He’s much fun, likeable as well as in he’s intoxicating. He’s my ex’s brother…Oh, brother indeed. No emails were exchanged, nothing. Just a Friend add. It’s just that memories poured in as I saw his picture. There was a time where I would have gone away with him if he hadn’t been my ex’s brother…and unavailable. He’s always unavailable. Always has (a) girlfriend(s).
Then, when I left work, I took the orange line to go pick up book boxes at an author’s house. Unusual route. It’s not my line, I wasn’t at my usual spot either on the platform. I was reading while walking (yes, very dangerous as described in a previous murder story) and I felt someone grab my coat sleeve. There was my ex-fiancé. As tall, as good-looking, as married as ever. He asked if he could kiss me even if I told him to never call, email, drop in again. I said yes, he kissed my cheek. And I missed him. The comfort, the smells. It was easier to talk today. We parted, him for his house in Laval, I for the library where I would wait for the hour to take a taxi to the author’s house.
I announced twice that I was finishing my pills today. My two exes know about it now. I am grateful for their happy reaction. Why ? One of them always worried about my illness, projecting his father’s illness on me even if I was doing well. I thought he would protest. The other because he doesn’t know me that well. I thought he would protest also. I am not upset. Nostalgic maybe.
I didn’t call anyone when I got home with my boxes of books. It cost me 40$ of cab fare, my books are interesting, I’m keeping a low profile.