A few weeks ago, it was my birthday. I tell you this not to have you send me presents (though I certainly won't refuse them). I tell you this because anyone who's been reading the blog for some time knows what my birthday means: the obligatory annual email from The Murse.
Well, my birthday came and went. No email. So I thought that maybe -- just maybe! -- he finally realized that it was time to just let things live in the past.
(Sidenote: Don't get me wrong. I'm all about being civil with exes. But after you date someone for 6+ years -- during the prime (and skinny) years of your dating life!! -- you sort of have a bad taste in your mouth.)
Anyhow, no such luck. He was just a couple of days late with his greeting.
(Sort of like he was late with everything else. Including realizing that he effed up the best relationship he had ever had.)
It was a cordial email, telling me that he moved YET AGAIN to a new city (he has a track record of moving after break-ups) and got a new job, asking about my family, yadda yadda yadda.
But you know what? This was the first year that I didn't feel even the slightest ping of "what could have been?" after reading it.
Guess the fourth time's the charm.
As Jay-Z would say... ON TO THE NEXT ONE!
P.S. is anyone else as OBSESSED with that song as I am?!?