Murphy's Law Of Attraction

Yesterday, I had lunch with an ex-boyfriend of mine. Not The Ex, and not Poor Bastard – I’ve been in twelve relationships so we’ve really only scratched the surface here. But this particular guy has been in and out of the picture for quite some time now; so we shall refer to him as The Repeat Offender.

I met TRO in 2001. I was visiting a friend of mine in Arizona and we were at the same house party. He seemed to zero in on me that night. Then he said he wanted to marry me. I found that to be a tad overzealous on his part, but it was also kind of sweet. So I agreed to go out with him when we got back to Chicago, because he was from there, too. Since then we’ve been “together” three times. And no matter what’s happened, or how they’ve each ended, he claims he’s still in love with me. Frankly, I don’t get that. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a confident girl; if you can look past my questionable history, I think I’m a catch. But he says I’m perfect, and I say he’s delusional.

Why is it the ones you can’t get over are never the ones that can’t get over you?

I realize that’s a very silly question. Because that’s just the way it goes. When a relationship ends, the person who chose to end it has the luxury of not thinking about the other person every day. The one that got dumped, on the other hand, will mindfuck themselves into a coma thinking about everything they could’ve done differently. I’ve only been dumped once but I still do that. And when I do, there are only two things that make me feel better. Well, three things, if I include alcohol. And four things back when I could count rebound sex. Anyways…for now, it’s just two things:

First, at the risk of sounding trite, I believe that everything happens for a reason. I think that every person you meet (and, especially, sleep with) comes into your life for a purpose. Sometimes, years later, we actually figure out what that purpose was. But usually we don’t. It’s a bitch of a philosophy to live by, but it works for me. In fact, my friend CK and I use it so much together that we just call it EHFAR.

Secondly, I believe in Karma. What you do to others will come back around. If I could find a religion based on EHFAR and karma alone, I would convert immediately. Hell, maybe I’ll just start one.

Because when I reminisce about the guy (read: motherfucker) that broke my heart, I tell myself it had to happen that way. If it was supposed to work out, it would have, but it didn’t. If I’m not still in that relationship then there must be better one out there for me. And with that, I have my reason. This always makes me feel a little bit better.

Then I also have to remind myself that payback is a bitch. Just as I have hurt eleven other people, sooner or later it was going to happen to me, and when it did it was going to be bad. This doesn’t make me feel better, but at least it makes sense. And it also makes me want stop breaking hearts to avoid another Karmic intervention. That’s gotta be a positive thing, right?

My religion kicks ass.

So my view of past relationships is predicated on EHFAR and karma. This is what allows me to have loved, been hurt by love, and still want to be in love again.

It’s also why I keep having meals with the ghosts of my sexual past. Each time I do, it’s another opportunity to figure out where it went wrong, why it did, and what that means. Moreoever, being nice to these guys for an hour is a small way of making up for doing them wrong. Of course, it’s not as if I can explain that to any of my exes. When you get dumped, no matter who tries to console you or how they go about it, you rarely find solace. The only way you ever get over someone is to give yourself time (and a couple wild nights of uninhibited random sex can take your mind off it, too.) The Repeat Offender has had four years since our last hurrah, and it doesn’t seem to have had an affect on him. Of course, I’m not about to sleep with him to help him get over it, either. No way, dude. Never, ever again. It wasn’t good when we actually liked each other; I’m sure it would be just plain terrible now. And I don’t think I owe karma that much. Our breakups haven’t been entirely my own fault. So perhaps the next time I see TRO and he’s back on this “we’re meant to be together” kick, I should just try telling him that everything happens for a reason…and that in this case, the reason happens to be in his pants.

xo