Ex-girlfriend gets married

Today, I got a rather interesting surprise: an email from an old friend, still living in Vancouver. It appears that a couple of weekends ago, my ex-girlfriend (and ex-fiancee) got married.

When I read this rather interesting piece of news, I couldn’t help but feel a little sad. I no longer harbour feelings towards her, one way or the other, but I found I still do for her family. I grew quite close to them when we were together, and perhaps the most pain I felt when I left was from my betrayal of their trust.

No doubt I am no longer a consideration in their lives, nor should I be. I suppose that thought/feeling alone makes me sad. What is my future? I have a good job, a home, a nice car, I exercise regularly, have more friends than I really know what to do with, and have led my life as I choose to direct it. In fact, the last three years have been extremely good to me — the death of my father notwithstanding.

But I come home to an empty house. I’ve got a roommate I hardly see anymore (a boyfriend and a new life outside of Critical Mass have contributed to that), and two cats. Though I love them all, they won’t share in my experiences or adventures. I have no-one to hear my victories in battle, no shoulder to cry on. Almost three and a half years. Longer than I was in any relationship.

The closest I’ve come to that sort of a relationship is with Chris — possibly my dearest and closest friend. (Anyone willing to tell me I’m full of crap when I start doubting myself can’t be anything but a close friend.) Since he’s moved away, the hole in my life seems to get bigger. I try to fill it with things: new websites, trains, work, exercise. Not even the largest freight train can span the gap that I sometimes feel splitting me apart.

Such was the feeling I got when I found out my ex is a married woman. There are a lot of people who believe I should feel a lot of animosity towards her. I did, three years ago. I had a lot of anger. Back then, I honestly didn’t believe that I’d feel any different as time went on. But the saying is true — time does heal all wounds.

Today, I sit here and type nothing but best wishes for her and her new spouse. I hope that their lives together will be long and fruitful, that her family is happy and well. Perhaps this is the end of a chapter of my life — the last few threads tied off that allows me to move on. I don’t think this was holding me back, but that’s the strange thing about the subconscious: you never really know.

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