We’ve been divorced since 2016. We’ve, uh, met up a few times over the years, but that ended around 2019.
And at this point, I can’t recall the last time we could talk like adults who love each other intensely but didn’t make it work. We both know damn well that what we had isn’t repeatable.
Surprisingly, we got on the topic of FetLife without it going completely off the rails. Turns out the guy she left me for is dead and did her the disservice of assigning her as POA before shuffling off this mortal coil.
Then there was another (influencer) guy whose life she decided to ruin when he couldn’t take a hint.
I don’t really consider myself Machiavellian, but together, we are. Take that for what you will.
But we just talked like when we were 30. I covered my dad’s struggles with the move to his new assisted-living facility, and she told me about what her boys were up to (not what I was expecting). And then, it’s after 1 a.m.
I almost wish we’d at least just fought. I don’t like to be reminded of why we worked so well until we didn’t.
One human trait I find annoying is the tendency to hang on to bad things and completely forget good things.
Interesting. I’ve only experienced the polar opposite. Rose-coloured glasses, usw.
A friend who knows you intimately is invaluable.
Although hearing you talk makes me happy that I bounced off of fetlife when I did lol.
Well, she got the fuck off there as well.
It’s good to finally be an adult. What you have is as good as it can be, removing animosity is extremely healthy and you both should be congratulated.
“Oh, shit, we can get along?” is tantamount to “I can fix her.”
I know we can’t work, for which I have seven years of evidence. Much of what came up showed that (multiple grandkids, one of her sons going extreme Christian [by which I mean not Christian at all]). I’ve learned over the years that most people don’t understand the sort of pull this kind of relationship has, but I assure you, it’s not minor.
She kept my name and still wears my wedding collar. Even nine years later, I was interrupting her with “Babe.” I have no background in psychology (though I know a surprising amount), but the fact that she stopped objecting to that somewhere around a year ago (we never used each others’ names until shit went off the rails – first names are attacks) suggests maybe the detente is moving into a new stage.
I’m at once thrilled that I can talk with her again but horrified that there’s a bit of an undertone here.
I just took what you wrote at face value…undertones are all on you
When it comes to her, well, you end up with a lousy news editor. There’s a reason the term “soulmate” exists. Whether you believe in this is largely irrelevant. She’s still the other half of me.
No I get that, for some reason the other half of me still puts up with my half of the bullshit.
At least you’re being adult about it!
You know, most people’s mental issues mellow out when they age, and they become more mature on top of that. Maybe there’s a future for “future you and her”, but i would wait for a while to see how long you both can go without starting to fight.
If both of you are more chill versions of each other, would it then work out?
I mean, all I got from the call was “she’s still my person.” I don’t think most people understand what that looks like. I’m not trying to be an ass, but if you’ve never felt that, it’s a difficult thing to discuss.
I don’t really consider myself Machiavellian, but together, we are. Take that for what you will.
I think I get that feeling - it’s like we (humans) have a few personality traits that are incomplete, and almost never surface, except when someone else provides the missing piece.
As for exes: I flat out refuse to contact my ex-fiancée. I can deal with a lot of her personality issues individually (gaslighting, getting irrational when emotive, assumptiveness, not thinking things thoroughly, laziness…), but as a set? No thanks. Thankfully I don’t think she wants to contact me either.
You didn’t quite collect the whole set if she didn’t also throw things at you after you branded her. I’m not saying any of this is healthy, but it’s my reality.
Ouch. Throwing things goes too far.
Her arm isn’t great, so it goes less far than you might imagine. The hilarious thing was the first time she did that, it was her pot pipe. Like, you’re trying to chill and then break the very thing that helps with that?
She then moved on to full beer cans. As I said, she’s not a healthy connection. But I have little say in what my heart comes up with validation for, and as I’m also absurdly unstable, I can’t really attack her glass house.
We’ve had endless conversations about how together we can get shit done, but apart? These are of course old conversations, but the woman I spoke with for three hours tonight was the one I fell in love with. And we represent two-thirds of U.S. residents with our last name.
We moved heaven and Earth together. Separately, neither of us seems able to do a fucking thing.
