In vain I have struggled.
Horror. Utter horror. If the world was as it should be, exes would disappear once the relationship ended. Instead, they continue to haunt. One becomes anxious just going to the grocery store for the fear of bumping into an "Undesirable". While some have exes who simply lurk around the edges of their lives, mine seek me out.
I was nervous when I left Provo for Christmas break that my path would cross at least once {if not several times} with one {or more} of my past amours. Since Mr. Cowboy and his little wife {ugh} live in the same area as my parents, a run-in was almost inevitable. I was on my toes at church to make a quick exit if I needed to, and I strategically planned and timed my trips to the store. But I imagined myself safe when I was in the confines of my own home. Foolhardy.
On Christmas Eve, Mr. Cowboy came to my house. Blatant. Harsh. Confusing. My sister rushed to the bathroom where I was getting ready and warned me that Mr. Cowboy was at the door. As he was welcomed into my home as a long lost friend by the entire family, I remained locked in my bedroom pretending to be non-existent and covering my ears with my hands to block out the sound of his voice and laughter. Unbearable. I waited an hour while my family chatted with him, praying that he would leave. Towards the end of the hour, Mr. Cowboy sent my sister to fetch me from my prison. I refused to show my face and my dear sister {whom I owe so much} was left with the task of informing Mr. Cowboy, who left without his characteristic smile on his face.
Why did he come? Surely he realizes that friendship between us is impossible. Why would he seek me out?
I'm ashamed to admit that this one still hurts. Surprisingly, much more than the Dex situation {who was also just recently married}. I imagined that in my joy of being free from all these expectations and circumstances that I would be sincerely joyous, but some days I am not. Even though I understand deep down that I do not want to be married to any of these gentlemen, it is insufferable to be the one not chosen. The anti-heroine.
Con Amor,
The Lady
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