good news is in the eye of the beholder
The guy who used to be mine just called to let me know that he met someone and that he is engaged to be married.
When I found out that we were broken up, I started wishing that he would get hit by a bus.
And then I calmed down and we got back in touch and became friendly. In that way that you are not exactly friends but more like you share a bond created out of surviving the same war.
He is the guy who sent me a text that made me cry this past New Year's Eve. I was riding the train above ground and listening Prince wail his version of the song "When U Were Mine" when I got the text. That was when it occurred to me then that maybe I have not moved as far along as I thought.
He is the only guy who has ever asked me to marry him. He didn't mean it. And when he asked I knew he didn't mean it ... but he did ask. And I did say yes.
It was a piece of crap ring with a blue flower and a wire that hung a yellow butterfly over it. It was fragile and lovely.
I broke the thing in about two weeks. First the butterfly, then the flower, then the whole ring. Prescient.
He asked if I would come to the wedding.
I said no.
Attending the weddings of your ex-boyfriends while dateless (Done it three times) is the absolute pits.
Unless Ze Frank sweeps me off my feet in the next few weeks, declaring his undying love, and agrees to be my date to the thing - I think I will take a pass on my ex-boyfriend's wedding.
The compound word of the day: petty-mean-spirited. Use it in a sentence.