Let me start this off by saying: I’m not as bitter as I may be coming off. It’s just a side-effect of the externalization process that helps me examine my feelings. I am not bitter. But if I do appear bitter, please equate me to the bitterness of black coffee because it is something people rely and depend on.
Can you be friends with your ex? I feel this is the question that has fueled as many debates as Hillary’s announcement to run for the Presidency (Congrats, by the way. Totally rooting for you!). Alas, is this a question that can be answered with a definitive yes or no, or is it like most questions that warrant many different answers that is dependent on the person answering them? That was a rhetorical question, as well as a trick question because there is no such thing as a definitive yes or no. Moving on (see what I did there?) I have leveled this question up to a moral quandary for my personal experience(s) because I have tried and failed on multiple occasions (well, two occasions) to be friends with my exes. The first ex couldn’t get over themselves and the recent one is a huge enigma. You can try your best and be the friend you think you should be, but is it worth trying if there is no reciprocation? If you get little to nothing out of it, is it really worth the time? I suppose another way you can look at it is that you shouldn’t seek to get anything out of a friendship or a relationship, because being with the person is all that should matter. But if they don’t really talk to you or vent to you or act friendly to you, at what point does it just become moot?
Put yourself in the situation of a recent, “clean” breakup. You have parted amicably, shook hands, and walked your separate ways. Sometimes to move on you need relieve yourself from viewing any of their social media activities (and that is a fine thing to do. It is not evasive or childish or weak. for some, it is necessary) and so they “no longer exist.” But then there’s the dreaded phone number, you can block it sure, but there’s still the lingering knowledge that their number can be called or messaged at the drop of a hat. Instant reconnection, or lack thereof. Boiled down, do you want to have that number at your disposal? Is it necessary in the moving on process to become devoid of this person entirely? This post, like many of my past and hopefully future posts, are essentially me trying to work through these so-called moral quandaries in an open environment. Prone to multiple sets of eyes and points of views. Prone to criticism and praise. Prone to the trolls and the unicorns. Should this number continue living in my life or should it be blinked from existence, never to be utilized by fingers again?
This phone number isn’t just a set of digits to me. There are two ways I’ve seen it: as hope and as relapse. The hope in rekindling a flame and the relapse of falling back in to an addicting game of ups and downs. If you were in my shoes, what would you do, if anything? Moving on isn’t easy to do and those that tell you it is are either lying, haven’t been broken up with, or have practiced The Secret and are therefore much more skilled at finding what they want than the average person. If I hold on to this number, is it preventing me from moving on or is it making me stronger for not using it to rekindle this flame? Does it really matter? Should it really matter? Moving on doesn’t happen in a day, or a month, or a year, or a decade. It can take seconds and it can take a lifetime. But to be confined within a set amount of time is a prison I don’t want to be sentenced to.