Ex Marks The Plot

I’m proud that I’m the reflective type of person, in that I look at myself and the things around me. That’s right, it’s not because I’m proud that I cast a reflection in the mirror. That would indicate that I have some kind of paranoia about being a vampire.

But I’m the reflective type in that I like to look back and feel positive about some of the things that I have done, or the things that indicate a positive swing.

Right now, that’s quite a lot of things.

I mean, it’s probably a reason why I hoard… which seems to be the word of the week. Sesame Street has nothing on The Inane Asylum.

I received an email yesterday that was somewhat heartwarming. It was from an ex-girlfriend. No, not the one I mentioned before, but my very first girlfriend from about 10 years ago.

And before we start cocking eyebrows, scratching chins and nodding in that ever suspicious manner, let me tell you that it was a professional query. She needed some information on some work stuff. I was probably her very last option.

She probably wouldn’t have emailed me if I hadn’t caught up with her months ago, in where I eventually outlined my mortification at the end result of our break-up – total and utter hatred of each other. Well, I was more to blame… with my immature name calling and abuse (hey, I was 17…), but that’s another story.

But after reading her email, I looked back upon the recent things in my life, and realise that I can lay claim to something that not many people can.

I get along with all of my exes. Okay, that’s a lie. There is one I still hate, but after what she put me through, she’s earned my scorn. No, it’s not the wife, either.

Let me revise: I get along with all the exes that count.

Sure, we’re not the closest of buddies, which is probably for the best when I think about it. I mean, the last thing I want to do is put up with some over-bearing, over-protective boyfriend who believes that I want to rekindle old flames.

“Sorry mate, but those were extinguished years ago.” I would tell him, but he wouldn’t believe me and would do his absolute best to phase me out of her life anyway.

Damn jealous, obnoxious, manipulative hypothetical boyfriends… they should grow up… when they exist…

One side of me does wonder whether I am just a total sap in that I can’t hold feelings of resentment towards anyone, let alone girls I have gone out with… bar that one. But to that I say “pshaw” and other such inane methods of signifying contempt.

‘Cos that’s beside the point.

The fact remains that time has healed all wounds, and that damage done by what happened back then can be easily scrubbed over and re-painted. Also, that I’m still regarded as a half decent person that is worthy enough to be contacted.

And for that, I should feel good.

Exes are an important part of the plotline we call life. Even if mine somehow resembles some really, really boring soap opera. Kinda like Days of Our Lives, but without the rampant amnesia.

On a different note, I should inform people of the very few degrees of separation that exists in my city. I’m sure that if I keep divulging information about myself willy-nilly like this, then Adelaide residents who read this blog are likely to discover who I am.

I mean, they don’t know me personally, but chances are they know someone who does. That’s how small Adelaide is. Damn this town.

Tomorrow on The Inane Asylum: General vitriol and curse words directed to the idiocy of everyone else… bar me.