Wednesday, December 7, 2005


I've recently become addicted to Sex and the City. I know, I know, I'm about 7 years behind the trend. I get it. I'm slow and didn't have HBO until recently. So now I'm obsessively renting all SATC from Netflix. Don't judge me.
Fortunately, Xtian has succumbed to this addiction and happily indulges me. Watching this show together makes for some rather awkward moments, and odd conversation. Specifically, I usually ask questions to which I don't really want to hear the answers. Turns out this is how I practice my masochism.

I usually try to avoid discussing my exes in front of Xtian. There's just nothing good to come out of it. Then we saw a SATC where the girls run into their most recent exes, only to find that the exes have moved on and are dating again.
Xtian expressed disbelief that the women disliked that their former loves had moved on, and asked if that was how I felt.

I hesitated on this. As mentioned, ex discussions are tricky. You don't want to come off sounding like you have any feelings for them at all, positive or negative. Positive feelings, and it sounds like you're still in love with them. Negative feelings and you sound like a bitter scorned woman.
So finally, I tried to explain:
I absolutely hate it when my exes move on. I realize they will eventually, but my egocentrism makes me feel that after they've dated me, they should mourn me forever. Sure, they may eventually move on and find someone else, but always feel that person pales in comparison to me. I will be the yardstick against which every other woman will be found lacking. I know it's crazy, and I know that I'm almost always the one to end the relationship, and that any decent human would want nothing but happiness for the other party. But I'm not a decent human.

My preference for exes is as follows: they will all get together in a club, move to some far-flung place where I will never have to see or hear from them again, so they can be left alone to discuss and pour over what went wrong. They will share fond rememberances, and compare notes on me. "Did she ever do that thing with you?" "Remember that dish she used to make with the lamb and the balsamic vinegar?" But mostly, they will just attempt to lead a normal, celibate life. After a dozen or so years, they may be allowed to date again, but will find that no one will ever be to them what I was. Oh, sure, they'll take it because they can't have me, and may as well get a consolation prize, but will live just a little less contentedly for it.

Call me crazy, call me narcissistic. I don't care. That's just how I feel.

No comments: