People say a lot of disparaging things about single girls with cats, but my cat has mostly been a positive influence on my dating life, depending on whose perspective you’re working from. She’s an automatic conversation starter whenever a suitor comes over, and she helped my ex-boyfriend get laid last week. So, good for him.
About a month ago, my ex and I revisited the past again before I swore him off forever for maybe the sixth time. We went four weeks in healthy silence before I broke the ice with an email. My bad. The thing about healthy silence is that it tricks you into thinking you’re healed and can totally handle talking to the guy you were in love with eight months ago. Greater minds also realize that the only reason you feel healed is because silence is in place — it’s like a load bearing wall. Take it away and the whole building falls down.
That sentence long, all-caps email triggered an almost daily exchange. Ten days ago, he broke the seal on texting while he was on a trip: “I’m in a honky tonk in Alpine, Texas and there are stars and mountains here and I’m sorry to text you but I thought you would appreciate it.”
So we were texting. We were chatting late one night when the Dougie came up in conversation. Then, naturally, the idea that my cat can do the Dougie came up. Then he suggested that my cat teach him the Dougie — on Skype. I was not sure if he was serious about the Skype part, but I played along. When he asked if I could spare an hour of my evening to have my cat teach him the Dougie (really sexy stuff, right?), I said why not? Then I loaded up my Skype, thinking it was awfully weird to be video chatting with my ex, and waited for the call. That’s when he showed up at my front door.
It would be completely fair for you to think I’m stupid, but I was just sitting there in my pajamas, on my laptop, in my messy apartment not expecting visitors of any kind. And when he appeared there, I could have turned him away. But I was glad to see him. He smelled so good and looked cute as ever in his plaid shirt.
What followed was an amazing night. First, we watched the Dougie on YouTube, but then we stayed up practically until sunrise despite having work the next morning — not just having sex, but talking and cuddling too. He said that I am amazing and beautiful (things I didn’t hear much when we dated) and that he missed me and was so glad to see me. The last time this happened, it felt good, but it seemed like we both knew it was a misstep that we were trying to hold onto for our own memories. This time, it felt like the beginning of something. There was a lot of eye locking and talk of being puzzle pieces.
The next morning, he asked me if I had time to see him again this week and I said yes. We made plans for Tuesday, but we couldn’t wait that long so we slept together again on Sunday. The two days in between, I felt like I was caught in a fever, constantly thinking about him and wanting to be with him.
It’s all very passionate and wonderful, if a little sickening to anyone who isn’t the two of us. There was a moment when he was calling me perfect that I wanted to blurt out that I love him for the first time ever. Pardon me, but what the crap? I absolutely know better than to fall for this nonsense.
I think my ex genuinely cares about me, but I also know that he thinks about five hours in advance. Nothing has changed since we broke up in August. He still wants to move to Vietnam and push the restart button on his life and be a lone wolf, ostensibly. And when he wakes up from his sex haze in a few weeks, or starts to feel uncomfortable about growing closer to me again, this will all break down and I’ll be left mourning the loss all over again.
But we’re like magnets and I can’t resist his pull. I know what’s best for me, but I can’t face building up the wall between us again on my own and I don’t know what else to do. Take a page from Mel Gibson and keep making sequels until they’re so bad you have no will to continue? Because that’s what I normally do.