An Open Letter To My Ex-Boyfriend Who Came Right Before My Current
I think about you a lot.
But mostly, these thoughts occur all during the same time, at the same place. That's during spin class, when the instructor asks us to sprint really fast on our bikes, and to do so, she prompts us to think about something that gets us angry. Really angry.
That's usually you.
I replay our conversations in my mind, I laugh at your lies, I think about how everything ended, and because of that, I'm usually the fastest sprinter in the class.
So the very first thing I'd like to thank you for is helping me burn more calories than anyone else in my 45-minute spin class. I never thought I'd say this, but you make me feel lighter.
Now, you would be correct if you thought I was angry after you told me, via text message, you didn't think this was working out any longer, because for some odd reason, I liked you more than you liked me. But after approximately one year and four months since we last chatted, a lot has changed. I now view our time together as a learning experience, one that I am so incredibly thankful for.
Thank you for telling me you didn't think I was marriage material. I meant to ask you, what is marriage material anyway? Is it someone who vows to do what you say and have what you ask ready for you when you demand? If that's the case, you're right.
But I believe you mentioned that I wasn't wife status because I didn't cook, rolled my eyes at cleaning, and worked a 9 am to 9 pm job in the hustle of New York City. What you are probably looking for is an old fashioned gal from the 60s. I'm more of the rebellious type that's marriage material for someone who wants a modern-day, 21st century type of relationship.
Thank you for letting me know that my career will never love me like I love it. You're wrong about that. When we were together, you were unemployed. There's nothing wrong with that, but you openly and honestly said you didn't want to work and didn't have a passion for doing much.
We were at opposite ends of the spectrum, my friend. I was always working hard toward something, and you were always working hard at not working. While you saw me make many failures in my career (getting fired from working weddings, losing money on bad deals, and having employees provide endless stress), you didn't stick around for some of the highest points (my book being published, getting tons of business press, and speaking at SXSW).
So maybe what you meant to say is this: You will never love me as much as my career or my own personal love of working toward the career of my dreams does.
Thank you for sending me articles upon articles on why eating pizza multiple times a week is bad for me. While I didn't listen to you, I did realize something after you left: My body is my body, and my health is my health. So I started to incorporate other things into my diet: salad, vegetables, oh, and fruit.
But I made that choice on my own. I did it because, honestly, I want to have the energy to live my life to the fullest. And yes, pizza sometimes makes me just want to snooze the day away on the couch.
Thank you for breaking up with me so abruptly. For telling me that you didn't think this was going to work out in the long run and that if I wanted, I could stick around while you looked for someone else, and if you didn't find anyone else, maybe you'd give this a second chance.
Hey, thank you for that option. It was really kind of you to give me the choice of leaving or sticking around while you philandered with other women.
Did you really think I'd be OK with that? I wasn't, and because of that, you forced me to block you on social media, delete your phone number, and go on 14 first dates to get over you ASAP. (And through those 14 first dates, I found my new boyfriend, who is, like way, way better than you.)
Finally, thank you for allowing me to see that you were not "the one." While I do not believe there is only one right person for us, I do believe there are many, many wrong people for us. You fell into that second category.
Some days, when I'm walking down the street and I watch couples grab each other's hands and sneak a kiss, I think about you. I think about our four-month relationship and smile really wide, because for the most part, being with you was a way to pass the time, to figure out what I want in a person (someone who doesn't play games, is loyal, and is driven) and what I do not (someone controlling, flakey, and fleeting).
People say making mistakes is a good thing because we learn from them. I agree with that fully. I learned from you that love is not something we should waste on those who don't want to or know how to fully love us back.
So thank you for coming into my life, but really, thank you for leaving so soon.
P.S., can I have my books back? That's really what makes me the most mad. You took about six books from my personal library and I want them back.