I've been thinking about my Ex a lot recently. I'm not sure why. Maybe because football season has started. Maybe because the new college semester has started, and all I can think about it that beautiful VT campus in southwest Virginia. Maybe it's because I was recently informed that his Dad just wrote a book. Maybe it's all of the above.
Four years ago, I met my Hubby. When we met, I was dating the ex, ZH, for almost 3 years. I was going into my junior year; he had just graduated from Tech and was off to graduate school at Radford (just a few miles from Tech). ZH was preoccupied with his new life as a grad student and his career, and I was starting to notice that he didn't have a place for me in his plans. When he had gotten an apartment, I casually brought up the fact that we could save some money by moving in together at some point. WRONG MOVE. He was furious. There was no way he wanted to move in with me. (Even though he had frequently told me that he wanted to marry me...?) And by his reaction, I could see that we didn't have a future together.
A few days later, I met Hubby. It didn't take me long to fall head over heals for him.
In the meantime, I had to break the news to ZH. I didn't want to tell him about Hubby. It took a long night of discussion over the phone with him about how I wanted him to move on, enjoy his life in grad school, and not worry about me. I didn't want to have an effect on his career. I wanted to be free, as well. I knew that I would hold him back from what he wanted to accomplish in his life, and he knew it also, but didn't want to face it.
ZH found out about Hubby when he came by my room the first night back to school that semester. I had two dozen roses sitting on my desk, and he instantly knew that another man had given them to me. I explained that I was dating another person, and he should be doing the same. I don't remember much of what was said that night, but I do remember that he asked me if he could stay the night. I asked him politely if he wouldn't.
A week or so passed. Then, 9/11 happened. I immediately rushed home to be with my family. When I returned home about 5 days later, my roommate had told me that he had called me quite a few times over the last few days. There was a solemn voice mail from him on our phone. He really wanted to talk to me. He needed to talk to me. So, being a coward, I instant messaged him. I was taken aback when he was rude and callous. ZH said that he really needed to talk to me and why hadn't I called? I explained that I had gone home for a few days. He didn't like my excuse, or didn't believe it.
A few days later, I received a package in the mail. At first, I thought it was from Hubby, so I opened it. Inside was a short letter stating "Here are all of your things back", or something along those lines.
Pictures of us. A card I had given him. Little mementos of our relationship. I am thumbing through it all in slight confusion - Why would he send me all this? Why didn't he just throw it away? And then, I reach the last item.
My brother's obituary. Cut from the paper 2 years before.
At first, I was shocked. Then I got angry. Really angry. The nerve! He sent me back my brother's obit, like I didn't remember he died? Like I had to be reminded? What an ass! It wasn't like this was a trinket of memory from our relationship. This was a slap in the face. And I was pissed.
A few months after the incident, I threw away everything he had sent back to me, except the obit. I don't know why. I think it would feel like I was throwing a piece of my brother away.
Today, I'm still scorned from this. Who, with any shred of decency and character, would send that back to their ex? I understand the pictures and cards, but my brother's funeral announcement? Seriously?
Can anyone explain this to me?