A familiar nervousness ran through me as the vehicle of an ex-girlfriend drove past me this morning. As happy as I was to see the car speed away quickly, another part of me was tugging at the possibility of her stopping. Our relationship since the breakup had been spotty but civil. When Christmas or a birthday rolled around, a series of emails would be sent back and forth, largely to see what the other one was up to. In these messages it is difficult to decipher what is written out of genuine interest and what is written for the sake of an obligatory politeness. Regardless, it was some contact. A piece of me had wanted to maintain contact since the breakup.
Our most recent encounter was far from pleasant. After several emails of the aforementioned 'keeping in touch' nature, her responses became increasingly chippy and suspicious that my interest in her summer plans was simply to avoid her at all costs. I opted not to reply with an equally dismal response and instead said nothing. Several days later I saw her downtown. Feeling that same familiar and nervousness and naively thinking that perhaps some friendliness still existed between the two of us, I walked over to say hi, only to have her quickly acknowledge my existence with a "hi, bye" and even more quickly run inside.
Well, so much for that. The genuine interest of mine to find out how she is doing or to maintain some level of contact with her has faded to black. Who cares?
That is how I have approached other past relationships. Although none of my relationships have ended with enough drama to have Hollywood producers crawling for my story, my interest in the 'ex' soon dissipates, sometimes even transforming into a disdain. It seems to make things easier. When memories are pulled of times past with that person, only the bad ones seem to come into view. All feelings of guilt, regret and longing for what might have been are easily avoided.
It might be easier but it is never pleasant.
Such feelings are never truly reflective of my opinion of these people. At times they were extremely important to me and an integral part of my life. It takes some time dig into the memory bank, but some of the happiest times of my life have come because of these people. And in no way do I regret ever involving myself with them.
For these reasons I have been more open to the idea of the 'friend experiment' or at least that there can be some life between people after the death of a relationship. My first few attempts were feeble, lasting only a few weeks. I haven't spoken to or seen a few old exes for years. I put more work into this past one, but it has still ended in disaster.
But why? Is it simply inevitable?
I don't blame it on my approach. I have never been very forward and I am cautious when making contact. And I am not the only player involved. Often the case has been where the ex has re-established contact.
Perhaps a post-relationship friendship was never meant to be. After all, my relationships were never built on a strong friend foundation, so when the relationship crumbled, there was no notion of "let's go back to being friends". We were never really friends to begin with, in a general sense of the word.
Perhaps the desire to maintain contact is obligatory. We feel like we owe it to the other person and our history to maintain some contact. But obligations are a pain in relationships, especially when they overshadow your true wants. So if you assign more obligations to the task of maintaining a friendship, you can be sure that the tower will eventually come crashing down.
So is it even worth it? Both strategies -- not caring and friendship -- have ended badly and left me feeling uncomfortable. Maybe this feeling is but an unavoidable risk of entering into and out of a relationship.
