RemembeRED: Tense

Prompt:  A couple weeks ago, I came across one of those popular little sayings posted on a friend’s Facebook wall:

After I finished laughing, I started thinking. So often in our lives, defining moments occur when our past and our present or our future clash. For this week’s RemembeRED prompt, write a memoir post describing such a time and the results.  While writing, remember to bring us into the moment and let us experience it with you.

 

Looking back, I am surprised at how easy it was for me to let go of people that I had cared for, maybe even loved a little.   Was there something wrong with me that I did not behave this way?  It wasn't necessarily that my heart was broken, or that my relationships had ended on a particularly acrimonious note. It was simply that when I was done, I was done. My habits also seemed to be unusual when compared to my friends, who spent weeks getting over ex-boyfriends.  I wasn't trying to be hurtful to the other person, but a clean break seemed the best way to move on with my life.  I would cry a little, drink a little wine, then I was onto the next activity.  Done.

I was out on a first date with a guy named Scott.  He was a nice enough fellow, and for lack of a better word, I was bored with too many weekends by myself.  It couldn't hurt to have a dinner and conversation.  If I enjoyed myself, that would be great, but I would settle for not having to eat my own cooking for once.  We sat and drank our beers and made cautious small talk while our meal was prepared.

Then I felt a presence just behind my shoulder, and Scott looked up, then stood.   I turned in my seat to find an Ex. I had never run into an Ex before.  It was disconcerting, to say the least.   Ex was smiling at me, but there was a meanness in the eyes that looked into mine.  My brain scrambled; it had been awhile since our relationship had ended.

"It's great to see you," Ex said, grasping my shoulder with a possessiveness I found irritating rather than endearing.  "How have you been?"

"I have been just fine," I responded a bit feebly, unsure of what Miss Manners would advise in this situation. 

Introductions of my past to my present were probably in order.   "Ex, this is my friend Scott.  Scott, this is my friend Ex."   The two men gripped hands and proceeded to engage in some sort of dominance test. 

It took  me a second to realize that these two men were engaged in a contest, and I was the prize.
I looked at both of them, teeth gritted with the force of their grips. Was this a traditional pissing contest?  Whatever, the whole thing irritated me, and I lost my appetite for food, and for men.

I stood up and grabbed my purse.  My past and my present had to let go of their wrestling contest to allow me to pass between them.   They watched me walk out the door of the restaurant, and I waved at them as I drove away. 

When I am done, I am done.