broken heart, celibacy, life, love, men, relationships, thoughts, women

Why the ex is still in the picture


I’m still in contact with one of my ex’s. And that contact is sometimes rocky. When he left me two years ago, he insisted we remained friends, despite I was severely heart broken. I did cut all contacts with him for months before accepting to talk to him again. I had a lot to lose if I stopped talking to him, because I can’t really avoid him for my job. The only option for me would have been moving to another country and start all over again. But I couldn’t do that.

At that time, I had the opportunity to move to New York as my company was looking for a new candidate for their american coverage. But we were many candidates for that job, and I wasn’t picked.  It would have been an ideal exit for me. But that option faded away. I did try to move to London but all the doors were closed.

So, I stayed in my country. And of course, every time I met my ex in events, it was difficult for me. Especially when he came to the annual reception of my company with his new lover. Luckily, I had my friends and family who helped me thinking about something else. And I had a lot of professional successes during this time. So, everything wasn’t that bad.

One of my friends forced me to meet other men, to date other men. As as result, I had a lot of bad dates, and I’m a bit disgusted by blind dates and dating sites in general. Some men I knew  also tried to invite me for a drink, but I turned them down.

With time, I’m now able to look at other men and find some of them way sexier than my ex.

But this process of healing would have been much easier if my ex wasn’t in the picture anymore.

Like one of my friends says, the only reason why we should keep contact with our ex is our common children.

There’s no other good reason.

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One thought on “Why the ex is still in the picture

  1. A few years ago, I dated the ex of a friend. I told myself it wasn’t completely immoral—I knew the guy before she did, they’d only dated a few months, she was living with someone else by the time he and I got together—but I knew I was playing with fire. I spilled the news over lunch at Le Gamin . She said she was happy for me, then turned her mouth down and drank an entire glass of water. After that, our friendship wasn’t the same. We could never talk about our boyfriends, which eliminated 80 percent of our conversational material. Instead, we were forced to discuss only the safe stuff: eyebrow waxers, Manhattan real estate, and people we hated. A few weeks later, I realized I was one of them when she told me she didn’t want to be my friend anymore. Soon after that, he broke up with me. He and I are still close, but she and I no longer speak.

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