Some time ago, my darling husband and I were discussing breakups. We’d both been through our share, separately of course, and found we had different styles of that “falling out feeling “. I found his breakup aftermath was far more forgiving and lingering than mine, which is not surprising for he is a forever romantic guy.

I’m more of a switch flipper. When my famously long fuse has been burnt to the quick, I’m done. I see no reason to continue relations of any kind when I’ve broken up with them. Blocked, no contact, grey rock, finito. We are no longer friends, I am done.

I remember once I was ghosted by a cowardly man I had been dating. I had given this guy considerable amounts of my time and attention, only to be cast aside at the end. And I reached out to him shortly after we were done. And I regret it. My email was messy, juvenile, and fed his already inflated ego. To the point that years later, one day in 2019, I received this message from him:

You are someone I did not have a conversation with in the aftermath of all of this, but if anything I ever did made you feel less, I am truly sorry. I have heard through the grapevine that you are married. I am very happy to hear that. You are a wonderful person. 

No easy way to say why I reached out….just read this column I wrote. 

Apparently he had written a column, in John Cusak High Fidelity style, about his breakups. It was revolting. And interestingly enough, been removed from the blog platform he once graced.

And my lovely, much better response, rather than reading much into the thinly veiled random hustle of “hey, we used to sleep together, let’s have another go!” Disguised as “I want to reassure you that you’re okay and I am so sorry big important me hurt you”. :

“Good morning,

What exactly do you want?

Check your facts. We communicated in 2016, and I forgave you then. 

”If anything I ever did made you feel less”??

Nobody has that power. “

To which I received a small, flaccid response of : it was a mistake to reach out. It won’t happen again.

You’re damned right it won’t happen again. Because I say so.

Sometimes it’s best to flip that switch and cut off the vultures of life. They will, in extreme moments of hunger, revisit what they previously considered a garbage dump, in order to feast and satisfy themselves.

Don’t let them.