The post (What, you're too lazy to go read it? Fine, I'll summarize it for you ... ) is from a reader of Steff's wanting her take on "being friends" after a break-up. In this case, the guy is the break-upper, the girl the break-upee. She says she didn't see the end coming. Ouch.
So, I got to thinking about the whole "let's be friends" business, and as I wrote in my comment, with one exception, I have no contact with any man I've ever dated. And that one exception is the one man I didn't sleep with. Hmm.
I once had a guy break up with me (after a short but intense spell; he lived in another city and determined that the distance would be an issue, though he had previously dated a woman here and broke up with her for the same alleged reason; did he think Lake Michigan had evaporated some and brought our two cities that much closer?) who said - in his e-mail, his chosen forum for ending things, which tells you a lot about him right there - that he still wanted to be friends, that he liked talking to me and having me there to listen to him and thought I was great and fun and funny and blah blah blah.
I quickly fired back that I am not an a la carte menu.
Which isn't to say I'd never be friends with an ex in the future, but like Steff says, it's very tricky.
The last guy I dated seriously stood by his apartment door as I got my coat on after he broke up with me (yeah, he let me come to him; I called him on it later and he apologized) and said, sullenly, "You hate me now."
I reassured him that I didn't hate him. Because I didn't. I knew things weren't going to work out between us ultimately, too. But I was struck by the fact that moments after dropping a bomb on me, he was wanting me to make him feel better. At least, that's how I read it. Oy vey.
Come to think of it, a guy I dated in my 20s broke up with me on the phone. (I'm detecting a trend here: Men are pathetic wusses when it comes to breaking up.) I'm very much one of those people who thinks of the perfect thing to say after the fact. That night, I said to him, "I can't help but think that as soon as I hang up the phone, I'll think of what I want to say to you right now."
He chuckled and said, "You can call me back."
And I, in a moment that will go down in my annals of great retorts, said, very assuredly, "No, I really don't think I can."
Then I wished him well and told him how lucky someone will be to have him someday, partly because I meant it, partly because I wanted to kill him just a little with kindness, and partly because I will not be the shrill, scorned, suddenly ex-girlfriend whose behavior justifies the break-up in the man's mind: "Geez, she's a psycho. I did the right thing."
In fact, the only ex-boyfriend I ever yelled at was the one I never slept with. Hmm.
The other day, he posted a very sweet compliment to one of my photos on MySpace. I sent him a note that read, "What a fab way to start the day!"
Today, he sent a reply that read, "You are the most fab way to start the day! Wish I could literally start and end each day with you!"
To which I replied, "Aw. If only circumstances were different ... ."
But if nothing else, we're friends.
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