Remaining friends with someone you dated seriously is the worst idea ever. If you dated casually I’m sure it’s a different story. I wish that were my story.
I met—what I thought—was the perfect guy when I was 29-years-old. I had visions of a beautiful wedding at the city library, followed by a perfect life.
Only the perfect guy didn’t turn out to be so perfect. He had issues. His issues turned into my issues. In spite of all the drama we remained friends when we broke up. Best friends. It wasn’t easy. In fact I worked my ass off to keep this friendship.
So did he.
Five years later I’ve discovered all that hard work was a waste.
This entire predicament is Jerry Seinfeld’s fault.
The friendship between Jerry and Elaine led us to believe that remaining friends after dating, not only works, but also works well.
Jerry Seinfeld is a lying fuckwad. He owes me an apology, five years of my life and a house.
Why a house, you ask? Um, because I’m the idiot girl who moves into her ex-boyfriend’s house.
I know, I know… I deserve to be punched the face. Pay attention to this next part: when someone you used to sleep with offers you a great deal on a rental property JUST SAY NO. Nancy Reagan would.
Even if it’s the perfect house for you.
With the perfect yard for a dog.
And the perfect dog door.
I have been living in this perfect little house for the last six months. Everything was smooth sailing, until that friend found himself with a serious girlfriend. I’m happy for him, I really, really am. That’s not the issue. The issue is that there’s suddenly another person in this little equation. Our friendship has suffered drastically. Without the friendship, I end up looking like the crazy ex-girlfriend who can’t let go and remains connected to him by living in his house.
Only it’s not.
I hate being pitied, and I’ve let myself become that ex-girlfriend we all pity.
I have no idea what to do, other than cry and hate myself for getting into this situation.
Hating myself is so time consuming. I think that time would be better spent deciding what’s more important: a perfect place for Daisy and me to live or self respect.