My ex-girlfriend of 8 months whom I broke up with last June has, in the months between then and now, fucked one of my best friends. I just heard of this yesterday, and I don’t think either of them knows I know.
Now, there’s a whole set of morals, a whole unwritten “guy code” that says you should not get involved with your friends’ exes because to do so will usually result in extremely uncomfortable emotional complications. I am, and have always been, a subscriber to this code. I do, however, go into this post with the full realization that there are people out there who vehemently disagree with this code. This thread is not intended for you. If you want to argue with me on this point, please don’t hijack this thread; just start a new one on that particular topic and address it to me, because this particular thread is about vengeance.
You see, it’s been a while since we broke up and I wouldn’t mind at all that she’s had sex with someone else (ignoring, for the time being, the fact that it’s one of my best friends), if she hadn’t been actively engaged in trying to re-court me at the same time, keeping my emotions suspended on a leash for her to play with. Thus, my anger at her. My anger at him is not so much anger as a kind of cold realization that he is no longer one of my best friends, and will in future be a casual acquaintance, at the very most. He broke the code, and he ain’t ever coming back to where he was.
Now, I’ve had a few ideas as to the best way to get back. One is to, the next time I talk to her (assuming she doesn’t know that I know of this), casually work into the conversation the story of a “friend of mine” who just had this happen to him. This would, of course, be replete with "Poor guy"s and "Don’t you think that’s awful?"s and the occasional “To be such a complete sucker and not even know of it…man.” This would hopefully have the effect of twisting her conscience 700 degrees southwest, leaving her with a bad taste in her mouth and a knot in her belly, all without me even letting on that I know. She’ll wonder, of course, if I know, but she won’t know for sure. Ah, the sweetness of it.
As for him, I don’t know what would be appropriate. As I said before, I’m not feeling real rage towards him, more a kind of aloof apathy, like all the emotional cords between us have been severed. He could probably die in a bloody car crash tomorrow and I wouldn’t shed tears. It’s weird. Still, he broke the code, and some form of punishment is probably in order.
So, I leave it to the Roaring Masses. Anyone else out there with horns on your head and a wound in your back? Wanna help? Any ideas? The nastier, the better.