I can't complain. I have a perfect boyfriend. He loves me, I love him, we're very happy together (even if we live 5,000 miles away from each other). He turns down girls for me, acts like he truly cares, and doesn't take me for granted. I do love him.
And then, out of the blue, you get an email from a pseudo-ex that begins with "Hello my love!". They never called you love before. Not even when you were dating.
Doesn't that remind you of Hugh Grant's character in Bridget Jones?
Doesn't that remind you of Mr. Big (married to Natasha) when Carrie was going out with Aidan and they were in love, and he had to come ruin that?
These type of men only show up when we're not availible, when we're not in the mood, when we don't want them anymore. It's their timing that counts. Why should they care about our feelings if they only come forward when opportunity strikes them?
"Oh, by the by, I might be swinging by Brasilia any time in the next 3 months". I feel he forgot to complement the sentence with an additional "Shall we shag, then?" Booty call, anyone?! Thanks, not me.
I feel like yelling "It was just a happy birthday wish! You weren't supposed to answer!" Just like he didn't answer the emails I sent him just after our "affair" (I'm practically insulting affairs) ended.
It triggered something deep inside of me, is what it did. Some kind of sleeping anger that had been numb ever since he decided not to write, call or care anymore (since he wasn't getting any, anymore). Fine. I got over it. I moved on. I fell in love. I'm happy.
And then - ta na - the ghost of heartbreaks past decides to show up.
Not that I care. My vengeful side does, though.
But I'm too nice of a person. I politely answered. I kept my distance.
And, for his own sake, so should he.