I kinda always knew I’d end up your ex-girlfriend WOAH-OH

When your ex-boyfriend calls you, there’s always a few seconds of panic and wonderment before you decide to answer. Questions pop up like “is he okay?” “what could he possibly be calling about?” and “how do I feel about this?”, and if you answer the call, is your life going to change again? Those split seconds between seeing his name on the screen and swiping the answer button feel like hours sometimes. So much so that you wonder how you ever managed to pick the call up before he disconnected.

Then you remember that the feelings you once had for this person are gone, replaced with something more like nostalgia, and a little light pops on telling you that it’s okay to answer. So you do. And unsurprisingly, the conversation flows like it always did, there are no awkward pauses, you even get to make jokes at each other about the past. And you can see why you clicked so well in the beginning, and for a split second you wonder what happened to fuck it all up. But it’s only a second, and you know what happened. You know, instinctively, that you were only ever meant to be friends because it just doesn’t work otherwise, and you’ve come to terms with that concept – in the dark months – and you’re okay with that now.

The crazy thing about love is that even when it changes and adapts to the new circumstances that it’s sometimes forced to accept, it still exists. No, I’m not in love with him anymore. But that doesn’t mean that I no longer care, that I don’t sometimes think about him and hope he’s happy and thriving. That version of love, the new version, the unexpected version, will always be there now. He will always remain part of my life, even if he fades out of it in the future.

So is it possible to remain friends with someone who broke your heart? Evidently he’s already at that place. I truly believe I am too, but there are still those moments when I wonder if I’m deluded and there’s no way this is going to work. Mostly I don’t have to worry about it. Only on days there’s contact, and even then the worry is fleeting. I guess the more contact there is, the quicker I’ll be able to discern whether this is batshit crazy or a remarkable discovery on the tenacity of relationships.

I guess we’ll play the wait and see game, yeah?

Fuck.

As long as it doesn’t turn into this, I consider it winning hahahaha.

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