======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ==== ======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ====
At what point does a fun, unspoken agreement between two people become something more than that? Is it one month? Six months? I’m asking because I can’t answer it. I can’t anonymously post to my Tumblr account and ask for someone else’s perspective. We’re talking about an ex-girlfriend who left me in complete and utter shambles. Conventional wisdom would say that I need to get out now. That I should have stopped this before it even happened. But I swear this is different. And maybe it isn’t different. But it’s my mistake to make. What I’m about to divulge has been kept out of this particular series for fear of the wrong person reading it.
I guess it all started last October. It was three or four days before Halloween, and I hadn’t talked to her since June when she essentially told me that I needed to move on. And then she broke radio silence. A G-chat about Phil Collins. So inane. So arbitrary. Yet my stomach was in knots. I hadn’t thought about her in months. She’d pop up on my Instagram feed from time to time. I’d think about a double-tap and then sometimes literally say out loud, to no one, “Better not.”
It happened quickly. One minute we were talking about plans for Halloween weekend, the next I was asking her to dinner the following week.
That little discretionary voice that tells you when you shouldn’t be doing something? That voice doesn’t exist when it’s in regards to her. This is a girl who ruined me for the better part of eight months following an absolute shitshow of a breakup. We dated for two years, and I’ve talked sparingly about her in my posts to this point because I’m not big on trials and tribulations. It’s like when a friend comes to the bar and just talks about their ex all night. Nobody wants to read about my ex-girlfriend. It’s boring, and even the most sympathetic person in the world grows weary of hearing stories about exes. But I’ve now been seeing her since just after Halloween, intermittently between all of the dates you’ve read about. It’s usually a simple text during the work week. Occasionally we’ll get together on the weekend, despite many of her friends knowing who I am and rolling their eyes at me or groaning when they hear that I’ll be joining them.
“Do you want to hang out tonight?” That’s pretty much how it always goes. A simple yes or no, we hang out for a few hours and that’s it.
I stood with her in the air conditioned portion of the rooftop bar, waiting in line on two Oberons and dancing around a subject that has evaded both of us for a few months now. I had invited her to this event four days prior, and it was nice to get away from the rest of our group for a few minutes. Out of ear shot of others. Out of the sun that had, by then, burnt my face to a very flushed red. The fact that I showed up to a Sunday afternoon function, seven hours after getting food poisoning, was quite honestly a small miracle. I didn’t sleep Saturday night. I thought my appendix was rupturing as I laid on my bathroom floor vomiting bile and water that I was trying so desperately to keep in my stomach. I eventually walked a half a mile to a 24-hour Walgreens for Pedialyte. That eventually did the trick, but I struggled mightily to keep a good face on Sunday while I slowly sipped Tom Collins and beer. My desire to see her, however, outweighed any pain I still had. I closed my tab and put my arm around her. She looked up at me, and I looked back and smiled.
“At some point, we should talk about what this is.”
“I know”, I said, “but I haven’t eaten solid food in a day. My stomach is empty and I’m too drunk to have this conversation.”
She kissed me. Or maybe I kissed her. It was too close to call. But it felt different from how it usually was with her. Simply put, it was just really nice. We finished our Oberons some fifteen minutes later. We had been there four hours now and both of us were ready to leave.
“I’d like something on the lighter side,” I said.
“Let’s go to the store and make a big salad.”
“Yes. Very good.”
Once again, we stood in a queue. The temperature had dropped since leaving the bar, and the hair on my arms was standing up while the clerk rang us up.
“You guys have a good day?”
“Solid day. Ending it on a high note with this salad,” I answered.
Almost instinctually, I put my arm back around her and she kissed me. I’m sure of that. It was nice. And that’s all I have to say about that. .
Image via John Naffziger
Respond
jduda@grandex.co
Run, Todd.
“Never take back an ex. She tried to do better and is settling with you.”
Wish I could double like this one
Another quote that helped me get over a long breakup, “If it didn’t work the first time, or the second time, it sure as hell isn’t going to work the third time.”
I can tell you from personal experience that it does not, in fact, work a third time.
Neither.
Johnny just replies “Neither” to everyone apparently .. Don’t come at us like that because you are making a shit decision Johnny..
Sendyyyy Johnny. Send it to the curb.
Caroline? Say something, anything, to help our boy Johnny out. We need you now more than ever
Ha no, I’m not that easily offended.
That’s what that quote is! I had it about two words off and couldn’t for the life of me figure out where I had gotten it from. You’re a saint. And also right.
but…but… Summer of Bridgette Johnny
It’s like Johnny D’s life and TGDAG have suddenly merged and it’s giving me the Scaries.
She’s obviously keeping tabs on you, and reading these columns. Let’s see, your first post was 7 months ago, “The Chase” series is ongoing. Wasn’t interested until she realized you had moved on. Just a classic case of girl-brain going on here.
There’s a reason you two had an “absolute shitshow of a breakup” and that reason probably hasn’t gone away.
Consider the following: this is a bad idea.
Good writing, bad idea.
I can see it now. Next update you’re going to feel on Cloud Nine about this little scenario but the one after that you’re going to feel so heartbroken and fucked over that you might contemplate watching ‘500 Days Of Summer’ for the 4th time. Don’t make this mistake. Text the ‘Dragon in the sack’ girl instead.
Currently scrolling johnny’s gram…
Is it the girl in the first pic of his Instagram? Or the girl in the last pic? Johnny we need answers.
Neither.
Plot twist: JD wanted to get his ex back so he started a series called “engaging in the chase” to subtweet all the chicks he banged, make her jealous and get ole girl back in the saddle.