As forthright as I am, there are only a few things I would like to say to an ex which were not delivered in a dissertation, soliloquy or a classic rant. Still, there are a few I would like to repeat, were there ears attached and functioning.
To be honest, I have said all of these words at one point. In the end, I have to tell my audience.
Not Your Baby
My name is Red. My grandmother named me Ann Marie. Neither of those is an anagram for baby. I do not have a daddy complex. For that matter, I neither have an Oedipal complex. As entertaining as the role play may be for you, I am not game for that brand of deviance; to be frank, neither are you.
Calling me baby is just your way of ensuring you do not call me by the name of the other women in your life, then and now.
Keep Your Ring
To the men who thought I was every bit better than their current wives, I have a newsflash: I am. What attracted you to me was I am nothing like your mother or your wife. I am none of the things you hate in your girlfriend. Chances are good I am smarter than you are, which makes me an enigma. Your father never told you about women like me.
Instead of lying about your state of matrimony, come clean. Say you are the one with a problem with marriage or sexual narcolepsy. You are not abused, unloved, trivialized, misunderstood or any other slight you claim your wife/girlfriend delivers. In fact, you have a slice of day old bread (because you left it on the counter) and have just encountered your first Napoleon… and the chocolate and strawberries are not on the side.
Over the course of time, I do not require less attention. I am not interested in the chase. I despise dating yet love to have special time once we are an item. If you think putting a ring on my finger is the culmination of our relationship, at which point you may cease all attempts to show me I have the penultimate position in your life, even missionary is out of the question.
In the first instance, there will be order. My life will not be a drama spin cycle. I will not vacillate between idyllic calm and crisis. I am never hormonal. I had surgery to correct that flaw. Your insistence on wearing a cape and assuming I will always play the role of Natasha is foolhardy at best and irritating at all times.
In the second instance, there will be no orders. I am not a waitress. Nor am I a housekeeper, concubine, short order cook or soldier. Our boundaries did not change at any point. We make decisions together, or I do not abide them. At no time did I acquiesce to your way. Turns out, my truck gets really good highway mileage.
When yours are hurt by someone who should have absolutely no consequence in your life, in the form of words you regularly say to me, you should never have expected me to be sympathetic.
When you hurt mine, be responsible enough to not only say I did that, but also to cease and desist the behavior which resulted in my hurt feelings.
If someone else hurt my feelings, have cajones as big as mine and offer bodily harm to the person who did it. I have done more than offered for you.
Your translator to woman speak is broken. Say what you mean, not what you think I can understand. I am perfectly capable of telling you what I thought you said. If I am wrong, reword it. Do not repeat it. Doing the same thing expecting a different result is insanity. I do not live in a mental ward and am not your nurse.
I know every one of your tells. Lying is stupid enough. Lying to me is unspeakable and resultant in my no longer speaking to you.
Do not tell me what you think I want to hear. I do not ask questions to which there are prescribed answers. I have never read the script. Just because it is your standard answer, does not mean it applies to the question I asked you despite its similarity to a question your (girlfriend, ex-wife, mother) asked you ad naseum during your relationship. I am not she or they.
The reason your relationship is strained with them could be related to the utter lack of concern you have for those inquiring as to your participation in their lives.
The only expectation I have is not an expectation; it is a prerequisite. My needs and desires should come before everyone else in your life. I have enough sense not to want things which will interfere with caring for the children: yours, mine or ours.
When you chose to let your job, possessions and friends preclude time you should have spent with me and obstruct your attention, your lack of commitment was obvious. If I wanted a once per week relationship, I could engage a therapist.
I did not stop loving you because it was inconvenient for you to be with me, or because you were overextended, or because you did not drive the same vehicle, or because your health was not the greatest, or because you did not know what you wanted to do with your life, or because you faded away to be a shadow of the person I believed you were.
When you cross my mind, it is a wry smile on my face. I remember all of the tender moments which made me fall in love with you in the first place. I am disappointed they did not mean the same things to you. I am angry you never kept your word. I would love to hate you. Alas, I do not.
Unlike lust, love is not a switch for me. Perhaps, it will subside before I die. Maybe, it will shrink as time passes until I no longer think of you everyday, and when I do, my heart will not clench instead of beat. As I usher away the thought of you, I hope you are happy with your choices. All I ever wanted for you was happiness. All I wanted for me was to share it with you.
Have you ever said any of these things to an ex? If you could only choose one thing to tell an ex, what would it be?
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