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Bayonet of Happiness

May 21, 2012

We must give off some sort of pheromone when we’re content with our lives. I say this because a friend recently popped back into my life a year after he ripped my still-beating heart out and held it in front of me Temple-of-Doom style.

He wore the same hat too when he did it.


But can’t we just let bygones be bygones and go forward with our friendship? Has he never met a woman before? No, we can’t just let heart-breaking bygones be bygones, asshat.

I went an entire year without speaking to him despite the fact that we see each other every day on the bus. Now he wants to be friends again and hang-out like we used to. What he seems to forget is that like-we-used-to was very different for me than it was for him. He knew he was keeping me there just in case things didn’t work out with the girl he was actually interested in while I was thinking we were working towards something more serious.

You can see then why I might not be so keen to hang out with him.

Unlike the Non-Ex Ex where I knew there was no future and I have no one to blame but myself, I honestly thought this budding friendship was the foreplay to dating. There were lingering looks, dinners for just the two of us before we’d meet up with the group, hugs that were too long, and suggestions of integrating me into his life.

I should have known that I wasn’t his number one. Weekend plans were always last minute, I never met any friends beyond our group of mutual friends, and I seemed to be blocked from certain photo albums on facebook. Still, like the Canadian Olympics ads, my mind would ask “do you believe?” and I’d shout back “YES! YES, I DO!!” and wait for his next text.

I became the girl who waited. I was Amy Pond (I wish my legs looked that good in short skirts!) but there was no Rory or the Doctor frantically trying to save me, just a boy who was too scared to be alone and so he let me wait just in case. I soon developed my own case of justincaseitis. I turned down Friday night social events just in case he called with plans. I declined a Saturday night date invite just in case it got back to him that I was seeing other people. By the time he and the other girl officially became an item, I deluded myself into being his friend just in case they don’t work out.

Was I really so pathetic that all I could hope for was a chance at a second go round? HELLS NO!

One day, I stopped waiting. Not only did I deserve a guy who thinks I’m awesome the first time round, I deserved a friend who respected me. All his actions showed that he didn’t respect me and I pointed this out to him. He did not react kindly to my growing a backbone. But what did I expect from a boy who is scared to be alone?

He called me names. He said I was ungrateful. He believed I was overreacting to nothing. He called me a bad friend who couldn’t be happy for those she supposedly cares about. Um, hello pot; I’d like you to meet kettle.

I walked away from our friendship. His insecurities and mind games had done a number on me. Walking away from all that let me hold up a figurative middle finger and it felt great. It took less than a week for me to realise that I didn’t miss him. As a friend. As a person. As a fellow geek. It was as if he had never existed in my life and that made me happy.

We still had to see each other from time-to-time. I’d do the head nod of acknowledgement and he’d do the straight face of awkwardness. We’d sometimes even manage a greeting of ‘hey’ while performing these actions.

Then suddenly, out of the blue, I get a text from him. How have I been doing? I’ve seemed a lot happier lately. By the way, he and the girl broke up. Want to go for beers and catch up?




I politely explain that I’m busy and as far as I’m concerned he can shove a rusted bayonet up his backside although the second part of that statement was more of an unsaid understanding. I must have left it unsaid in Finnish or something because he suggests another time for beers.

I thought you might finally be over whatever happened, he texts me. And this might be a good time to become friends again.

Maybe if I showed him the rusted bayonet…


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