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!