That’s what K said after he observed our interaction, that my ex and I are “playing friends well.” It was a couple hours ago, but I keep turning that little phrase over and over in my head. I guess he just meant we’re playing nice, being quite cordial–friendly is probably a better word, actually–to one another. When everything first went down, we said we were going to do this. I wanted to do this.
But then suddenly I didn’t anymore. Suddenly the thought of him made me uncomfortable and I wished I didn’t have to see him and if I knew anything, I knew that I didn’t want to try to be friends. When K and I were on our way to party Saturday night, I knew I was going to see him, and this made me anxious enough to want to make sure liquid courage could get me through the night.
But it wasn’t terrible. “It’s nice to see you” wasn’t exactly the truth, but it was neither particularly awkward or painful in the least, and was a more socially acceptable statement than “I’m pleasantly surprised by how anticlimactic it is to see you.”
When he came to the Black Student Union event I was at this afternoon, I was surprised that he was there for entirely separate reasons, but generally planned to ignore his presence. Then he came up to say hey to K and I, and we had a very brief (probably only about a minute long) but altogether pleasant conversation. This is when K made his point, and I came to the startling realization that I didn’t really feel like I was playing. There was no internal monologue being rude/snarky while I was being nice. I wasn’t looking for an excuse to get out of there or wishing I could be anywhere else. My lack of negativity even internally surprises me.
This might not be as bad as previously projected. Stay tuned.