Which Type of Ex Are You?

You see him from across the bar. And of course he looks good. They always do. They’re firmly trimmed up in their single-status workout routine; not like the pudgy, stoned apartment goblin you broke up with four months earlier. Oh, no. They are fresh and fine and freakin’ fantastic and that’s exactly why you sip your beverage a little bit harder because you are working up the nerve to finally speak to him – as “friends” – that delicate religion no ex really believes in.

In my humble, and admittedly limited perspective, there are three kinds of exes:
1) Sayonara Mothafucka. You would be perfectly fine if this ex accidentally fell into the shark tank at Seaworld. Chances are you weren’t together for that long or, if you were, it was so outright miserable you have to take some serious meditation time to release the personal vexes said ex has accosted upon your psyche. If you see this ex out at a bar, you will most certainly walk (or run, or scamper, depending on your level of inebriation) in the opposite direction to avoid any contact because this person is as caustic as a TV evangelist set on fire from a righteous Petri dish of too many Amens.

2) Hey, “Friend.” This is an outright lie. No one who has ever had sex can ever be just truly “friends” again. Ok, that’s a lie, too. I’m full of those apparently. In fact, I have dated guys that I am now completely platonic with – and at the time I was a bonkers girlfriend for these guys, thought the universe of them and wanted to totally carry their babies someday kind of girlfriend. So it is possible. But these scenarios are rare, and it’s because of two reasons:

a) You are a mature, honest individual who realizes the depth and width of the relationship and understand that it has hit its boundary. You cannot proceed any further and must make a decision that will ultimately benefit you both. So you go ’head and be all friendly like. Cheer one another on for chattin’ up that cutie at the bar (never as cute as you, of course). But still, you genuinely care about them.

b) You realized how much of a tool they were and can’t believe you ever dated them in the first place. This is very Freudian, but you have repressed the relationship so deeply into your subconscious that you can’t even believe yourself that you even dated aforementioned tool. So instead you imagine a plane of existence where you two are just simple acquaintances having fun on random occasions. You never saw their genitalia. You never cried at their expense. You never tried fighting some drunken clubgoer who accidentally bought them a shot of Jaeger. No, you barely even know them at all. And there, in this Disney Land of Make Believe, you are 100 percent platonic.

3) Bangmenowiloveyou. This is the person you never got over. Everyone’s got one. Could be from years ago…that distant visage that creeps up in a random Tuesday dream. Or it could be your most recent ex, in which things fell apart because of circumstances moreso than personal reasons. They are the yin to your yang. And every time you hear that Script song you feel it. And every time you get drunk you feel it. And every time you meet someone who can’t live up to their standards (which is basically every time), you feel it even harder. And it burns like a gun barrel down your throat, but there’s nothing you can do. It’s over, and that is all you know. So what do you do?

Cheers, my friend. For that, for what little good it may do you, I drink to you. Drink wisely. Always. And meditate. Because there is zen in relationships, and, perhaps more importantly, in break ups. Just love each other.