I was scared to write this. Then I thought, ‘Heck, why not? Life is short’. Then I was scared again. Then I thought ‘Heck, why not? Life is short’. Then I was sca…
You get the picture. Why does no one ever really talk about running into exes? It seems like women’s magazines have all areas of relationships covered, but running into exes, like maths at a beauty school, is a murky, untouched subject.
Here’s the thing, you’re with someone, your life is one. Then you’re not with them and your life is two. But we still remember the one. The shared experience, the bad times, the good times, that one time that one thing happened. That pair of shoes, that moment, that year, like it or not, was a part of your story. But you move on, in every way.
And then you run into them. And suddenly, you’re half that person again and you’re half somebody completely new that they will never know. You’re also half really glad you wore that top that makes your boobs look great. It’s always a zingy moment. Zingy as in, your nose goes a bit tingly and you feel like you have to glance down just to check you’re not having one of those terribly awkward ‘naked in public’ dreams.
And my experience is, you always have a million things and absolutely nothing to say, all at once. Old you, new you, all the yous are fighting to be the best them they can be. And it’s hard, and a little scary, and a little sad.
Here’s what I’ve learnt though. No regret. Absolutely zero regret. About having one life, then about two lives. About running into each other when you have those tracksuit pants on that used to be awesome but now have more holes than a sieve. About having sadness or nostalgia or anger or any Pantone booklet of emotions that sharing time with people brings. No regret. Just grace. Grace and gracious peace. And a top that makes your boobs look great.
PS. On divorce and old love.
[Picture Source Unknown – holler if You do]