The Ex-Fiancé Hook Up…

February 2014. The ex-fiancé and I kept in contact after I moved back in with mom – only phone calls. We talked about what was going on in each other’s lives. I know, it’s fucked. We were fresh out of our relationship and here we were “catching up”. In between the lovely and awkward conversation, I would pepper truths to him about how he gave up on us and how he never really fought for us. I told him how disappointed and sad I was. He infuriated me and at the same time, I loved talking to him. I missed him, but didn’t feel the hope to reconcile.

About a month after I moved out, during one of our conversations, he invited me to the condo to watch a movie. I naively thought this was a grand idea. Actually, I thought I was strong enough to just hang out and be friends with him. I mean, shit, I hadn’t cried since the day I moved out. He picked me up and took me back to the place I once called home.

Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re thinking – THIS IS A TERRIBLE FUCKING IDEA.

So, our time together was exactly like the beginning of our relationship. It was fantastic. We ignored the fact that our six-year relationship had JUST ended. We talked, joked around, snuggled on the couch, smoked a joint, watched a couple of movies and had really good sex. I ended up sleeping over, in the bed I once shared with him. I felt like shit at this point, questioning what the fuck I was doing there.

He dropped me off in the morning on his way to work. Nothing was said. I cried for the entire duration of the car ride home while he held my hand. We kissed good-bye and I decided not to tell anyone about it.

The second time happened a couple of weeks later. Again, I thought I was strong enough to do so. I missed him. I missed us. It happened exactly like the last time. We ignored the fact that we had just broken up and I had just moved out. We talked, laughed, smoked weed, snuggled on the couch, watched movies and fucked. He dropped me off at home afterward. And, again, I cried the entire way home while he held my hand.

This time, instead of crying in my bed, I got my shit together and went to the gym to blow off the sadness. I felt pretty good after the workout, or so I thought. As I drove home (in my mom’s car), the song “Let it go” by James Bay played over the radio and I completely lost my fucking shit. I was a hot sobbing mess. I barely made it home through the haze of tears. When I got into the driveway, I called Miss D. She was in the middle of getting her hair done. I was crying so hard I couldn’t even speak. I was hysterical. Once I explained what happened, she very lovingly and sternly told me to never have sleepovers with the ex again, no matter what. I finally calmed down and agreed with her. Whenever he asked me to hang out from that moment on, I never took him up on it.  

The frequency of phone calls dwindled over time after that.

Lesson(s) Learned:

1. It is NEVER a good idea to hang out with the ex, with whom you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with, immediately after (or really any time after) breaking up. The experience is exacerbated ten-fold when you hang out in the place you helped make a home. It is a complete mind-fuck.
2. It is NOT a good idea to rebound with the ex. This also fucks one up emotionally and mentally. At least with a stranger/someone new, there is no emotional attachment/baggage with that person.
3. When you feel the need/want to hang out with said ex, do ANYTHING ELSE BUT THAT. Utilize the love around you and hang out with, or call, your besties, mom, dad, siblings, or whoever you know you can count on in these trying times. Tell them how you’re feeling and I guarantee they will distract and support you. They will make you laugh. Go shopping. Snuggle with your favourite stuffy or fur baby. Get your nails done. Eat something fucking delicious. Go for a long drive. Have a drink with a friend (drowning in ones’ sorrows is not the healthiest idea, but hey, it’s the way I like to do). Go to the batting cages. Bake something. Anything.