I spoke to my ex today for the first time in a long time. We are trying to co-ordinate the shipment of what used to be our cat. When he left the relationship (and our home) he took Eddie. Now that he's getting busy with work he doesn't have the time to take care of him properly. So he's shipping him to me in Vancouver from Toronto. I'll pick Eddie up from the airport tomorrow.But that's not really the point. During our conversation he asked me if I was still with a boyfriend he'd known about. I answered honestly - no, we'd recently broken up. I didn't want to ask him the same question: are you still with someone? But it was all I could think about as he told me he is coming to Vancouver for work and would like to see me, have dinner or something. I know in my heart the only way I can see him when he arrives in a few months' time is if he's single and unattached, and if I am, too.
Why? I'm not exactly sure. This was the guy who broke my heart. There is no happy ending to my story with him. It was an extremely hard break for me - in fact, it resulted in me packing up six years' worth of life in Toronto and moving back home, unable to cope without the support of my old friends and family.
It's OK, people said. It wasn't meant to be with him. You'll find someone else, someone better for you. So far no luck. I haven't felt the same deep love for another person since. Sometimes I wonder if I ever will. Was he my only chance at true love or is it just a matter of time before I find something even better? I'm not sure; I can only wait and see.
But talking to him makes all those old emotions well up again. I wonder if that's a good thing or not. Four years or so after the fact and I'm still not completely over it? Is that right? Is it normal? Will I ever be free of this burden? Is it up to me to let go, to make the choice not to feel anything more about the situation? Is it really a matter of time? Or does your first unrequited love stay with you forever, haunting you with memories of what could have been?
Finally, I built up the nerve to ask. "I'm nervous about asking you this," I said slowly into the phone. "But, are YOU single now?"
There was a pause at the end of the line. A good two to three seconds, which felt like an eternity.
"No, I'm not."
And really, my heart sank. Not quite to the extent that it exploded into a million tiny pieces that night nearly four years ago when I stood at our apartment window, watching him drive to sleep elsewhere for the first night during our long relationship, but it did sink. It's still hurting now, as I sit here blogging about it in an attempt to sort out my feelings and hopefully make myself feel better. He still affects me - or, the breakup does.
I won't be in contact with him again - today we spoke for the first time in over a year, and for a specific reason, which I can't imagine happening again anytime soon - but by writing it here and having all of you read it, hopefully the universe will send him the message that I don't want to see him when he comes here for his work. I don't want to get a call and feel flustered and unsure. I don't want him to see me without his partner knowing. I don't want him to know about my private life and relationships, whether I'm single or not, or feel happy or sorry for me either way. I don't want to ask him again, "So, are you single now?" I'm afraid the answer will hurt too much.
