The "ex" factor

MOTHER EFFING HOLY HELL.

(I realize that this is likely sacrilegious to say on Good Friday, but I think you'll agree this post warrants it. In fact, I almost didn't even write this post because it's so crazy to me. But since I've opened up to you guys so much about my love life for the past seven or so months, it felt sort of right to share it with you here.)

When I got home last nite, I grabbed my mail on the way into the condo. In addition to an invitation to a wedding shower (my second in as many weeks -- Always a Bridesmaid lives on!), there "it" was. A letter. From The Murse.

(For those of you who don't remember, The Murse is the guy I thought I would marry. We dated for 6+ years and broke up about 3 years ago. Since then, we've seen each other a handful of times, and pretty much only talk when we exchange obligatory "happy birthday" emails.)

I actually thought about publishing the letter verbatim, but then I decided it was a little too personal to do that. Anyone who knows me well knows that I have never really opened up about my relationships, and publishing The Murse's thoughts word for word just didn't feel right.

(Which probably seems weird to you, as a reader of a blog about my dating life. But if you don't know me, you probably don't realize what a huge step it was for me to even start this thing. But trust me. This blog's contents are very out of character for the real-life Always a Bridesmaid.)

Anyhow, back to the point. The letter from the ex. WHOA.

It was two pages, handwritten on lined paper and meticulously thought out. And it was apparent to me that the feelings The Murse expressed in that letter had been running through his head for some time now.

Essentially, he told me that he made a huge mistake when he couldn't commit to me three years ago. That working in the hospital has made him realize that people don't always get to say what they want to say, and he didn't want to be one of them. That he still thinks about me all the time. That I will always be the one who got away.

I really don't know what to think. On one hand, I am sad to know that my life right now could be so very different had things gone differently three years ago, and would probably include a husband and a family and a white picket fence. (In the letter, The Murse said that he wished we had had a family.) A life where I wouldn't be alone on a holiday like I will be this weekend.

On the other, I've forced myself to be over this relationship for so long now that I don't really think I could ever go back. (And, truth be told, my friends and family are so angry with The Murse now that it would be nearly impossible to go back, even if I thought I wanted to do it. I could never date someone who my friends and family didn't like.) And who's to say that I would have been happy with a guy who was so indecisive to begin with?

So, there you have it. I don't have any particularly enlightening things to say about this whole situation beyond, "Holy shit." (Thank goodness I didn't give up swearing for Lent like I did last year.)

That said, I'm hopeful that maybe the Easter Bunny will bring me something really, really awesome in my basket this year. Like a guy who adores me and realizes it when he's got me next to him. Not three years too late. (And if that's too much to ask, Mr. E. Bunny, I'll take a couple of tins of Pringles.)

A new month, an old flame

Thanks to everyone who suggested names for this month's dating escapades. I loved them all and couldn't pick a fave, so I'm going to go with the whole "blood is thicker than blog-ter" mantra and pick blogmom's: April Adventures. (BTW, you won't see that suggestion as a comment on my last post. She texted it to me because she's afraid to comment on the blog too much. Oh, blogmom. How cute.)

And, as part of April Adventures, I'm going to try something new. There is a particular boy who I have a crush on right now (let's just say my stomach dropped when I met him). And I'm wondering if maybe the bad luck in my dating life is coming from blogging about the boys I go out with. (Wouldn't it be a pisser if the saboteur was right? That I'm inadvertently screwing up my dating life?)

So, I'm not going to blog about him. At least, not until I see where this is going.

In the meantime, I'm sure there will be plenty of other AAB escapades to share. For example... there was an ex-sighting this morning. Here's what happened.

I met a couple of my friends for brunch at Sweet Melissa's in Rocky River. When I got there, I scored an awesome spot on the street, and as I got out I noticed that the car behind me looked very similar to The Divorcee's. However, there are a zillion cars like that on the road, so I didn't really think anything of it.

(Sidenote: I just accidentally typed, "I didn't really think anything of us." Interesting.)

Anyhow, as we were looking over the menu, I glanced up to find that my ExSP was right, as I watched The Divorcee and a girl (who knows blogdad, BTW -- more six degrees of separation!) leaving the restaurant.

(I ALWAYS get this weird ESP feeling prior to running into this guy. My friends and I are sort of freaked out about it now, actually.)

But you know what? This was the first time that I have seen him since we broke up that I didn't feel a pang of sadness.

(Don't get me wrong. It was still weird to see him. Especially with a girl.)

Hmmm. Finally getting over an ex? Now that is sweet.

I've said it before...

... and I'll say it again... ladies, NEVER leave the house looking like a pig. Because you never know when you'll meet your future boyfriend. Or see an ex-BF. Or, even better, a friend of an ex-BF.

I stopped at Heinen's on my way home from work the other nite and ran into one of The Divorcee's really good friends. (The Divorcee and I would often double with this guy and his GF, and he's one of the friends who Facebook friended me after The Divorcee and I broke up.)

The friend started the conversation by saying, "Wow, you look really great, AAB." Then, after a few minutes of chatting and catching up, he again said, "How is it possible that you're not dating anyone?"

I wanted to say, "Go ask your stupid friend." But I refrained and just replied with a giggle and a "I have no freaking idea." We ended the conversation by agreeing to grab a drink sometime soon to catch up. But I have a feeling the whole "bros before hos" mantra may come into play before that ever happens.

Regardless, it still felt nice to get a little sweet love from a boy who you just know was going to call his friend as soon as he got in the car to tell him what just happened. Aaaah, the joys of ex- gloating.

And then juuuuuusssssttt when you're starting to feel like maybe you're getting your mojo back (after a Valentine's weekend date and this unexpected compliment-filled run-in)... SMACK. A giant underground zit appears on your chin. (You know the ones... the flat-ish hard blemishes that just linger under the surface of your skin for days and days?!?!)

Aaaaannnddd... back to reality. But, hey. At least the zit didn't surface until after the friend run-in, right?

Ex- sighting!

So, my friends all tell me that they've never met someone who runs into their ex-BFs as often as I do. And I'm starting to agree.

THE LOCATION: Einstein Bros. Bagels in Rocky River

THE EX: The Mush Mouth (college BF)

THE SCENE: Was waiting in line for my "everything bagel" and heard someone call my name. Turned around to see The Mush Mouth sitting at a table with his three-year-old son (who is adorable, BTW). Went over to say hi and ended up talking for about 20 minutes. We got caught up on each others' lives since the last time we ran into each other (about a year ago), laughed about old times (including the time that I accidentally barfed on his roomie's desk chair b/c I was so drunk I thought it was a toilet). In general, it was really nice to catch up. And as I was walking away, he yelled "You look great, by the way."

THE LESSON: Never leave the house looking like a pig. You never know what ex -- or future -- BF you might run into.

Ironically enough, I had stopped into Einstein on my way... you guessed it... to pick up another bridesmaid dress.