Moving On

My boyfriend has a baby.

Okay, technically, he's not my boyfriend. We were in a relationship in 2005, a situationship for part of 2006, an "it's complicated" sprinkled in between (which is really just code for sporadically knocking boots when I was in town) and a do-over in 2010. As evidenced by various blog posts, you may have deduced that the do-over led to an it's-over, so I guess I should rephrase my original statement.

My ex-boyfriend has a baby.

Actually, I believe that most of my exes have babies now. Some of them even have wives (at least I think so, but I'm not absolutely sure this is a true statement so don't quote me). However, when I discovered that this one had a baby, it made me feel some kind of way. Maybe that's why I referred to him as my boyfriend, even though it's been a long time since we've even seen each other, naked or otherwise. I can't quite put my finger on what that feeling was, but it was visceral. It was like that feeling you get when you're getting a shot at the doctor's office - you know that it doesn't really hurt, but there's a sense of dread anyway.

What was I dreading exactly? In all the years of knowing each other, we haven't spent much time actually being in a relationship. We've danced around it, we've played at it, we've pretended that this time was different, but in reality, we were only meant to know each other. While there is/was a connection that could not be denied, we wanted different things and we were incompatible in some very fundamental ways (I liked Jimmy Fallon, he preferred Conan - you can't ignore that). When things finally, truly, for really ended, it was a relief. I'd given it one last shot and could close the door. Not only did I close it, I cemented over it, then put bricks over the cement to the point where you couldn't even see that a door existed.

At least that's what I thought...until I saw that picture of his cutie pie chubby-cheeked baby.

Most of us have experienced a breakup or 12 in our life times. Sometimes we did it, sometimes it was done to us, but we keep on living and we eventually get over them. However, there may be one or two people in your past who took up permanent residence in your heart (which may be totally against your will). Although you've moved on and have no delusions about how wrong you are for one another, there's still a part of you that can't quite picture them being with anyone else. Clearly, my boyfriend ex moved on and I'm sincerely, truly, very happy for him. Buuuuuut, despite not wanting to be with him or for us to get back together, there is a small part of me, so small and so secret that I didn't even know it was there until now, that thought of him as forever mine.

I want all the cookies in the cookie jar, even the ones I don't want!

While I've been out here, dating folks, getting hooked on sexy heroin and whatnot, he has been frozen in an emotional time warp, where I could go back to him when I wanted, if I wanted. Oh, I know it sounds absolutely ridiculous and totally unfair; how could I expect him to be waiting in the wings just in case I decide I might want to think about maybe considering the thought of the possibility of one more do-over in the distant but maybe nearer than you think future? (Well I did, but it doesn't really count because I didn't know that was what I was doing.) Intellectually, I get that both parties move on; I have moved on several many times at this point. I guess I wasn't emotionally prepared to see that it manifested in such an obvious way.

Especially since I didn't get there first. Y'all know I'm competitive!

Virtual Relationships

It's a Monday and you're having a hard day due to back pain/a fight with your baby boo/making a mistake at work. Although a glass (or a bottle really) of wine would take away some of this melancholy, Beverly irritatingly reminds you that it's a slippery slope to dependence (and you do have that one uncle). You go through your list of coping skills - you're out of marijuana, you'd have to clean your tub to take a bath, it's too dark to go running - and decide to call on your friends to ease some of your pain. You pull out your phone, go through your contact list and decide who to call...and then a rainbow made of Skittles appears in your living room, with Care Bears sliding down it to hand you the key to your brand new car that Ellen bought for you because you helped an old lady cross the street.

As if people use their phones to make calls! What a novel and retro idea!

So...you pull out your phone, take a sad selfie and post it on Instagram, while updating your FB status: "My day is like a world without bacon - depressing." The responses are instantaneous. "Poking you!" "Tomorrow will be better!" "Dude - a world without bacon - you are depressed!" "I just sent you an extra life on Candy Crush, hope you feel better!" Your friends are there for you...right? Although no one has actually asked what's going on, they clearly want you to feel better...right? I mean, if you were really troubled you could pick up your phone and call one of these folks...right?

Could you? Do you even have their phone number?

One would think that when everyone has 1,283 friends according to FB, Twitter, Pinterest and Instagram, it seems like everyone and their mama (who's friendship request you will not accept) should be able to reach out to someone. Although it's so easy to acquire these new "friends", are you really friends? With the advent of social media and the ubiquity of cell phones, we have become increasingly unplugged and disconnected from real life, while creating these faux personae in a virtual world. What's even more unfortunate is that we've begun to mistake our virtual relationships for being real; some of us are having a hard time discerning between the two. Yes, Jane liked your picture of the butterfly and Sam co-signed on your quotation about bacon. You and Louis had a fabulous conversation that one time you met and you remember really liking Mary when you were freshmen in college. But is that enough of a foundation to call someone a friend?

The true definition of friendship - liking each other's bacon quotations.

Despite being connected through our computers, phones, tablets, pagers and two-ways, many of us still feel quite lonely. Perhaps it's due to the superficial quality of the relationships we form now. We text, we tweet, we repost, re-pin and like the latest pictures of Beyoncé's lovely ass (did you see it on the Grammy's? Dayum Gina!) but we're not really saying anything substantive to each other. We bear witness to engagements, new jobs, new babies and other accomplishments, but are we actually there, in person to celebrate with our so-called friends? No, not really. Scrolling through Instagram pictures and reading update statuses now suffices for getting to know someone or finding out what's new in their lives. We're too busy to talk on the phone or it's too hard to try to get together. (If I didn't know people as well I do, I could actually think about trying to believe that to be true. Unfortunately, I know for a fact that it's bullsh*t. One thing me and Oprah know for sure is that people do whatever the hell they want to do.)

If we continue down this path, it will become more and more difficult for us to form real relationships. How do you have an actual conversation with someone when you only know how to communicate via emoticons and hashtags? How do you stay curious about someone when you already know they've been to Hoboken and learned to play the ukulele at age 5? How do we define quality time when most of us are sitting next to each other, totally plugged into our devices and not each other? We're so busy capturing a moment that we're not even experiencing it anymore!

So, I implore you to reach out to an old friend or a new friend. Talk on the phone. Spend some time together. I have a really good idea - get a drink and have a conversation at the bar.

P.S. My for real friend in real life JS was the inspiration of this blog.