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goodbye to all that (eleven years, man)

For some reason, I got it in my head that I should look for the x-BF on Facebook and of course he was there and even though we haven't spoke (or e-mailed) since he skipped town eleven years, man ago (say that in a Jeremy Piven voice, a la Grosse Point Blanke), I thought what the hell?

He accepted my friend request within the hour so, emboldened, I sent him a message to say, hey, what's up!?, all casual like as if it never really hurt that one moment he's emailing me to ask if I'll help with his going away party only I'm halfway across the country at that point, sitting in my cousin's room at 3 a.m. still kind of smarting over how he dumped me for his xGF but even though I reply all nice-like, he never responds and by the time I get back to town, he is gone. Gone, daddy, gone.

And then days and weeks and months and years pass and really it's not that hard to get over him except for the part where there will always be this tiny part of my heart reserved for the place where he was the first person I slept with, post, the Big Breakup with D. The first person who made me feel like, well, maybe this is more how a person should treat you. For how he made me a home made card and a book of Paul Bowles poems before we ever even went out and before he declared, I adore you.

As time moved on, I learned, eventually, that I adore you does not quite mean what I wanted it to mean.

And then, somewhere, somehow, I learned he'd left Seattle and moved to the Bay Area and married the xGF and we still never ran into each other at shows even though his sister and her husband, with whom I'm still friends, live here.

And then, finally, years later, I thought what the hell? and added him as a Facebook and then sent him a message saying hey, what's up!?

And he sends back this message:

yes, all is well. Moved to xxx after ~10 years in Seattle. Live with my wife and our three dogs, commute to Palo Alto 4 days a week for work. General computer nerdery fills my days.

I randomly make it up to xxx still to see my mom and my sister's family. Maybe I'll run into you one of these days.

Um, like I don't know "my wife" is K? Weird.


Maybe, M, it's hard to believe, but give me 11 years (Eleven years, man) and I have moved on - way beyond that night outside your apartment. Way beyond the cornmeal waffles and the mixtape and red candle and, yes, even beyond the Paul Bowles book.

I just wanted to say hello, that was all.

10:31 am - 22.05.08

sounds:
words:
i am:

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previously on ... - next time on ...

money can't buy happiness but it does buy small pieces of of serenity - 15.07.12 - 4:29 pm

sh)t's about to get real, y'all - 31.05.12 - 9:46 am

why the hell not? - 29.04.12 - 8:38 pm

Hear that lonesome whistle blow... - 02.04.12 - 5:18 pm

a faith in something I can't see - 30.03.12 - 3:33 pm

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