June 7, 2012 by David Gillaspie
Paul Simon wrote a song, Still Crazy After All These Years.
The first line goes, “I met an old lover on the street last night.”
If you think of Paul Simon at all, you think New York City. That’s where he’s feelin’ groovy.
When you meet an old lover on the street some night, I’m talking to the guys, you have a job to do.
She’s your former flame, right? You’re not her current guy. You’re not going to be her future guy, either.
What you must do in every case is behave in a way that reminds her why she broke up with you so long ago.
If you meet, use good manners so at least she’ll know you haven’t slipped all your gears, but work up a twitch while you talk. No one digs a twitcher.
If it’s on the phone, pretend you’re hard of hearing and talk over her, answering question she didn’t ask.
If it’s email, tell them you’re a big-gulp sucking loser living in your mom’s basement.
That’s it. Don’t go to substance abuse lies, because they’ll go nurse on you, or worse, start telling you about their problems. Good memories are shattered by less.
Don’t get into made-up details about your emotional damage from the past. If she’s part of that she might want to try and fix things.
Again, meeting old friends, those old friends, is a field of quicksand. Grab a hose, hide it from plain sight, and jump in. Once you go under, breath through the hose.
At worst she’ll think you’re ditching her and walk away kicking herself for remembering your name. Or she’ll watch you go under and think, ‘He was always so emotionally unavailable. That hasn’t changed.’
She won’t jump in to save you. That never happens. If it does, stay with the hose and move away. She’s been waiting for an audience to see her disappear, and you’re it.
But if things don’t work out, use the tried and true, “I’d like to see you but I can’t leave the house. I’ve gained so much weight I’d have to chainsaw the door to get through, and my moobs would catch all the slivers. Again. That last time I tried to leave I got a systemic infection that left scars from getting stabbed by rotten wood. I look like a 3-D Death Star of pus.”
Again, no matter how you feel, remind your old lover that dumping you was the best thing she ever did. Be a man, for her sake.
One more thing: Your welcome.