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Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives.

Someday, I'm going to be walking down the street and see a man coming toward me. I'll recognize him in a generic, "Now where do I know him from?" kind of way. We'll smile politely and perhaps wave and be on our own merry ways. I'll ponder for a few more instances where in the world I know him from, walk a couple of steps, stop dead in my tracks, and say, "Holy fuck! I used to be married to that guy."

That's about how much I ever think about my X. The fact that he was part of my life for 10+ years, and impressionable ones at that (age 18-28), doesn't even register. He might as well be a guy I just shared a couple of classes with - not a life, condo, and, well, genitalia.

Thank Blog, I'm over him. (And under someone else (hee hee)).

Comments

ImGonnaBeaNewMe said…
I once read (I am quite sure it was in Cosmo) that when you stop remembering their birthday every year then you are completely over them. However, I suppose if you barely recognize them walking down the street, that might be a good indicator as well.

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