My ex showed up again yesterday. It was the second time in a week that he came through the bank doors to tell me that we need to talk. What he wanted to talk about, he said, was Baggage Claim.
He began our fifteen minute conversation about The Couple Formerly Known As Us by saying, “I’m glad to see you’re looking better. When I saw you Monday, you looked horrible. Absolutely horrible.” Gee. Thanks so much. Not willing to leave well enough alone, he continued, “No, really. I mean it. You looked really bad.” He sure knows how to go for the jugular. And it only got better from there.
I related that little ray of sunshine, as well as some other tidbits of the exchange, to my boyfriend when I got home that night. “I’m not telling you this,” I mentioned, “just to be all Hey, look at me! My ex boyfriend came in to see me! I’m desirable! I’m only telling you this so you know where I came from, you know?”
“I know,” he said, pulling me to him. “I’m sorry you had to go through that today.” He kissed the top of my head. “And, baby, you could never look horrible.”
I smiled as we sipped our drinks, saying nothing for a few minutes.
“How long did you say you were with this guy?”
“Almost four years,” I said, staring into my glass.
“You need to start picking your boyfriends better.”
“I just did.”