Thursday, March 22, 2007

A Note to My Exes

God knows I love my man-menagerie of exes (my MANagerie, if you will [aha! I have found the title fo my first book!]). Somehow I managed to wriggle out of all but two of my many relationships with some amount of grace, few hard feelings, and moderate reserves of goodwill and mutual affection. Thusly, many of my exes remain close friends, and they add much richness and happiness to my life.

But sometimes, the MANagerie collectively gets out of hand, it usually happens when they start to hear tentative musings about my happiness with someone new.

And just like that, I'm faced with inboxes bursting with laments over losing me all those years ago. Love poems printed on scrolls and stuffed into hand-painted boxes are propped against my door. Kisses that normally land on my cheek are suddenly redirected toward my lips, and I'm forced to duck to avoid them. Someone confesses that I'm all he's ever wanted in a woman. Another sticks his nose in my hair and declares that it smells just as sweet as it once did. Friendly dinners I expect to be drama-free end with someone weeping in my arms, and "I love yous" that never got said while I was actually DATING the gents in question suddently start flying around like so many cupid's arrows. Literally, this happens EN MASSE, and I can't point to just a single offender.

So to my collectively freaking exes: Guys, you know I love you too. Each one of you is special to me in your own unique way, and I hope we can always be friends. I wouldn't have dated you if I didn't think you were awesome, and you are still awesome, even if I did decide to dump your sorry (and hairy) butt.

However. You should have kissed me WHEN WE WERE TOGETHER. You should have told me you loved me WHEN WE WERE TOGETHER. Your syrupy attempts at poetry would have been more appreciated WHEN WE WERE TOGETHER. You should have told me how much you loved how I smell WHEN WE WERE TOGETHER.

You had your chance to appreciate me to the fullest, and you didn't. You now realize the error of your ways, and I'm sorry that that makes you sad. I certainly don't want you to be sad. But there ain't a thing I can do about it except implore you: In the future, when you find someone as awesome as me (although your chances of getting that lucky more than once in a lifetime are decidedly slim, bucko!), look for the things that are lovely about her, and tell her you see them, and appreciate them, and then kiss her and take her out for a nice dinner. Hold her hand on the street on the way home, and look her in the eye.

Perhaps if you do so, you won't be crying to HER three years down the road about all of your regrets.


Blogger Guy said...

Meant every word of it.

7:29 AM  

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