THE EX FACTOR

An unexpected package arrived in the mail...from my ex. He sent me a card and my pair of reading glasses (with case) which, he wrote, was found when foraging through luggage I borrowed from him some time ago. It was a nice gesture. I wasn't sure if it was a method of him resuming contact (on some level) since I left L.A. -- or simply that he was returning eyeglasses. I told you I'm great at fabricating drama. I'm also a master at creating subtext when none is there. Or, at least, not the script I'm working over and over in my mind.  

I've been so busy with the home renovation that I didn't respond via email for a few days; in the apex of our romance, I would have replied in five minutes. When I was agonizing over our break-up during much of last year, I would have waited 30 minutes, but likely would have spent half a day writing, rewriting, but finally deleting the email I sent to him (thank God we both have AOL to make THAT feature possible!). Undeterred, I'd start all over again...go from anger, to sentimental, to being pissed off to being contrite to overwriting (ME?) to cutting it down to one sentence. Another two hours spent writing to him saying we shouldn't write to each other.

This time, I delayed replying simply because I was so busy, it slipped my mind. Or I thought about getting back to him when I was driving or shopping or unpacking or packing...someplace where I'd have the thought and then just as quickly forget. I guess it means another step away from being caught up in a past relationship when you don't jump all over it and make it the center of your world...you write back, like a normal person, and say thanks. And that's it...

That said, a few days after I wrote him, I had a very ominous feeling that something was amiss, either with him or his aging, infirm parents. I emailed him and asked if all was OK and he wrote back, saying at the exact time I got a "hit" that he was in trouble, it was true - something had happened in his life and I was on the money about my premonition...and precisely when it happened. Just shows, no matter what...there is that connection between two people who once loved each other.

Funny how life works...I never would have thought in a million years -- more accurately, in the bloom of our relationship -- that I would migrate to Chicago, move into and rehab my mom's house...with my ex also in Chicago at the same time -- and for an added dash of irony, is staying with his current boyfriend...who, by chance, lives in Chicago. It's getting so inbred that I wouldn't be surprised if they rent the about-to-be-empty one-bedroom apartment next door to me. What could be more delightful? 

What matters is, my ex and I wish each other well, we have made peace with each other, admitted our mistakes and have peace in the shared awareness that we were right for each other at a certain time in our lives.  We said goodbye three different times in the last week I was in Los Angeles...the first time, we both cried; the second time, I blubbered; the third time, he sobbed. Sadness, regret, loss, yes...anger, resentment, blaming, no.

No matter how it ended, I'll remember the apple pie we baked, the Halloween pumpkin we carved, puddin' pies, many cozy nights watching episodes of the British '70's comedy series,"Two's Company" (complete with his dead-on "Stritchie"impression), the Sunday afternoon stroll on the beach in Malibu...and how he taught me how to love, and to be loved in return.