Im An Exxxx

I know that it's stupid -- and silly --
to sound as if my whole life revolved
around being somebody's ex-girlfriend.
But I can't help it...that title packs
a pretty strong punch. I am now an
official member of the "loved-and-
lost" club. And while it's a title I
don't exactly want, I have to admit
that it does say some things about me.

I am an ex.

I once loved someone who loved me
back. But he didn't want to stay... So
I had to let him go. I cried a lot. I
spent countless nights wondering what
went wrong, muffling my sobs with my
pillows so my parents wouldn't suspect
that something was amiss. I'd
reminisce about our happy times, and then
break down when I'd realize that he
was no longer mine.

I analyzed every single detail of our
breakup. I wrote long e-mails to my
closest friends. I talked endlessly
about my situation. I spent my nights
in tearful telephone conversations and
my days in daydreams where we'd end up
in each others arms again. Sometimes
he was still my angel, still my knight
in shining armor who I'd do anything
for just to have back. But sometimes,
I saw him as the devil incarnate who
broke my heart in the worst possible
way, and who deserved to be
horsewhipped at the very least.

I tried to show the world that I was
OK. That was I over him. That it was
fine just being friends. I didn't go
around with a big "X" on my forehead,
nor did I go around with puffy eyes
and a tissue box. I tried to live my
life as I knew it before I met him.
People thought that I was doing great.
They heard me laugh and they saw me
smile; I seemed happy, they said; and
I told myself that I was. But in the
solace of my room, where I tried to
organize my thoughts and sort out my
feelings, I had to admit to myself
that I wasn't truly happy. Because I
was still yearning for someone, and my
heart still ached for something that
could not be.

Surprisingly, things have gotten
better. I've changed. Somewhere along
the way, I realized that he wasn't the
only one out there for me. I also
realized that there were valid,
powerful reasons why we split up. And
I've become stronger, older, wiser.
He's changed as well -- when I look at
him, sometimes I still see the boy I
fell in love with. Sometimes I think
that he's the same person... he still
has the same goofy smile and
mischievous charm that I fell for, and
I like to believe that the rest of him
is unchanged as well. But then I take
a closer look and I realize that he
HAS changed... that I don't know him
anymore, not really... not enough to
love and care for him as I once did.

I am an ex.

I've loved and lost. I've cried tears
for the things that were and that
could have been. I've wrestled with
intense feelings of love and hate, of
jealousy, of frustration. I've
simultaneously taken down and brought
up my pride. I've tried to rebuild my
world without the person whom it used
to revolve around. I've tried to save
myself from the depths of depression
and self-pity, and when I couldn't do
that, I turned to God for help. I
don't know exactly what I gained, or
how much I lost.

Maybe someday it will be all clear to
me... then again, maybe not.