Transplanted Life
Wednesday, November 05, 2003
No Wei at the Weekly Wednesday Ass-Kicking tonight, so no change to look at her ring, say I was happy for her and Jim, ask if there were any plans made or dates set, and just be more interested than Michelle has any right to be.

Did meet up with Kurt, though. That was, in all honesty, kind of depressing. Jen and I must have just arrived a minute or two after him, took our usual seats (well, usual in that they were were we'd sat two months ago), and realized Kurt was right behind us. Jen leaned over to ask if I wanted to move or even leave, but that wasn't happening. Closest theater to my apartment, I'm not abandoning the only non-Bollywood shows because my ex is there.

"My ex." That's how I think of Kurt now. Right up until the day he dumped me, he was mainly my friend, and all the other stuff was on top of that. But the very act of ending the relationship redefined it; now, he was in the past tense. I can't look at him without thinking that I trusted, and even cared for, him to the point where I let a part of his body inside mine, and he returned that trust and affection by cutting me out of his life.

Maybe that's taking it too hard, but how else can I be expected to take it, even if that is grossly unfair to him? This body was not that of a virgin when we first made love, so he doesn't know how pivotal that day was to me. Even so, just the speed with which he dumped me/Michelle as soon as Denise asked - not being good enough for somebody hurts.

He tried to say something to me on the way out, but I didn't particularly want to hear it - I made some sort of comment about how there were a lot of college kids there, and won't he get into trouble if one of them reports back to Denise's sister?

Maybe that was meaner than even being premenstrual on top of the rest can account for, but as I walked home, I realized that I just can't imagine being friends with him again. I've tried to be friends with my ex-girlfriends, and it generally hasn't worked out well just because of circumstance, or so I've thought. But I can't even imagine it after I get my own body back. It just stings too much, and knowing how much less the breakup must have meant to him than to me makes it worse - he had a backup girlfriend, and no vague magical threats hanging over his head.

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