The last ex - Mr. Bunny’s ex-best-friend. Somewhat of a scandal, though we never ever hooked up while I was with the Ex. He only forgave us both about three years ago. We all get on alright now. He’s one of my friends on My Space. He has a wife and an adorable little boy and I wish him all the best, he’s truly a unique individual and he was a great boyfriend. All the bad stuff that happened in our relationship was my fault.
The big ex - You know, the one I’ll never forget. Pretty close to Anastasaeon’s post, except he was more a scared little boy who lashed out because it made him feel in control, which he most certainly was not. He was physically and sexually abused, and needed some serious, serious psychological help. I thought I could help him. I was wrong. It took much screaming, things thrown at me, things of mine destroyed, and physical abuse before that got through to me. Even then, I loved that stupid boy so much I went back for more at least three times over the next several years. I hope he’s gotten help. I’ve forgiven him…I hope he’s forgiven himself.
The long lost ex - Found him recently, and it turns out that Case Sensitive’s post could have been written by the Ex about me. Bummer, that. I had hoped he’d get past all that after a decade but…not so much.
Ex #1: I wish him well, but for the sake of my sanity, don’t want him in my life. It’d just complicate things.
Ex #2 can take a long walk off a short pier. We split amicably, but I’m in the process of cleaning up some financial damage he caused due to his laziness and apathy. Suffice it to say, this has caused a strain and I’m really looking forward to paying it all off so I can officially tell him to go to hell.
I wish all my exes well, even the really bad ones. Maybe it’d help them turn less totally evil. A few I’ve been friends with longer than we dated, now. Others I’d pretend not to see on the street, but I’m over it.
Ex #1: Good guy overall, much better as friends than dating. Four super-awkward months dating, and years of friendship afterwards. He later turned out to be gay, but he at least broke it to me after we stopped dating, and not while we were dating!
Ex #2: I second Whole Bean on this one. I like him far, far away. Not a bad guy, just insecure, clingy, and immature. From what Ive heard, college hasn’t helped him much either.
We have no contact, really. I don’t wish her anything bad, particularly since she’s been fighting cancer for a couple of years now. But every time we do meet, it reaffirms that I made the right choice in leaving. She’s never changed; if anything, she’s gotten worse about religion and martyrdom and treating everyone as though they’re six.
I used to wonder why anyone would kill their husband/wife instead of just getting divorced. Now I know. It was a combination of his whining and his holier-than-thou attitude among other things that killed my marriage. I got divorced 10 years ago. I still have to talk to him about our son and we pretty much keep it civil for our son’s sake.
The thing that gets me is when I call on the phone to talk to him, as soon as he finds out what he wants to know and feels the conversation is finished he hangs up on me with out saying goodbye. frigging immature idiot :rolleyes:
Kind of leery. We both did some pretty awful things to each other, so I imagine she feels the same about me.
We have two kids, so I’ll be as friendly toward her as I can, but there really is no trust for my part. Too much sneaky crap (from both of us). Problem is, I’d come clean. Not that I’m Honesty Man[sup]tm[/sup], or anything, but damn! What’s to hide so much?
Oh well. Two different (too different) world views. She’s still a special lady to me, but I don’t trust her very far.
All of my ex’s are kind, likeable guys; some I miss more than others. I learned something from each of them, and wouldn’t be the person I am today had they not been a part of my life.
That’s not to say it was all sunshine and rainbows–it wasn’t–but I certainly wasn’t traumatized enough to wish death on any of them.
I’m on really good (and often flirty) terms with most of the exboyfriends. And at least civil with the rest, all but one:
My ex… (don’t know what I should call him, we planned to get married, but we didn’t have a ring, hadn’t told anyone yet, and weren’t planning to for a while. what would you call that?) well, there’s no nice way to put this…
Given the choice between spending 15 minutes in a room with him, or 15 minutes in a room with someone who died 3 weeks ago and has been sitting by a river ever since…
I’d even spend the whole day in the same room as the corpse to avoid 15 minutes with my ex.
Yes. I’m serious. And I’m really not a fan of corpses.
Oh, God, where to even start? Put it this way, lying about having cancer to guilt me into staying after cheating on me was one of the leasr worst things she did.
Oh, God, where to even start? Put it this way, lying about having cancer to guilt me into staying after cheating on me was one of the least worst things she did.
Conscience? This was the woman who, when she first confessed that she’d been cheating on me and I was crying my little eyes out and banging my head on the wall, remarked sympathetically, “I could kill him {the Other Man} for this”.
This was also the woman who, after she’d returned swearing that the first affair had been a dreadful mistake - this was when the cancer story surfaced: I was to be the one who would have the privilege of cradling her in my arms as she lay dying. Quite a flair for the dramatic, she had - and I’d moved to a small town at the other end of the country to live with her, would simply disappear for days on end.
When tasked with this, she finally admitted she’d been off to screw The Other Man, didn’t have the guts to tell me, and was just hoping I’d become so miserable and lonely I’d just hitchhike out {It was a very small and isolated town, and she had the car}. Her rationale for resuming the affair? “I promised too much.”
It gets better, though. TOM actually owned the house she was living in, and she was screwing him in lieu of the more conventional arrangement of paying rent. Neglecting to tell me about this financially convenient arrangement, she’d been collecting half the imaginary rent off me. Yep, I’d been paying her for the privilege of being cuckolded.
No, she had no conscience. In slight mitigation, however, anyone reading the above will have reached the conclusion that I was a naive fucking idiot, and they’d be right.
I worry about him a lot. He and I were friends before we dated, and somehow managed to remain friends after breaking up. He didn’t have the best home life–we were teenagers at the time–and since we broke up, it’s gotten worse. He also has some drug issues, which admittedly have improved since we broke up.
I would never date him again, though. While he was more-or-less a good guy, he also did a few really stupid things (blackmailing me into stopping the practice of my religion, cheating on me, etc.) that still piss me off today. Despite this, though, I don’t wish him harm; on the contrary, I hope he’s as happy now as I am today.
First Ex: Don’t like him at all. Have no contact whatsoever. The only reason I stayed with him so long is that we had a child together. Thankfully, as of last November, my husband has adopted said child and I haven’t ever got to speak to my ex again. He was a lousy father and a worse mate. I hope he straightens out his life one day, but I certainly won’t know one way or the other.
Last Ex: I like him a lot. He and I had a lot in common, but it just wasn’t love.
(edited for brevity)
That sucks. It also sounds like you might suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder. I hope you can get past it.