Friday, January 15, 2016

This, That... and the Other. Who doesn't Want It?

I'm a pretty level dude. I think. I was speaking to my friend the other day about my relationship with my ex. I'm still pretty proud of myself for having few ex-girlfriends in relation to my high number of bed notches. See, I never wanted to be one these guys with a bunch of ridiculous baggage, all these exes, that know my business and what not.
Some people see a guy with a bunch of girlfriends as a womanizer... I see a foolish fast talking failure. My boy is the same age as I am, and he's had 11 exes. eleven. None of them talk to him anymore. All of them have met his parents, grandparents, all of them he's 'loved' and had pregnancy scares, and this, that, and etc.
I've had 5.
Two of them know the names of my parents. I'm still on good terms with four of them. I've only loved (romantically) two women. One is an ex, and she's dead. One is The Constant. You frequent readers know what that's about by now.
So I guess what I'm saying is, some guys like to step up to the plate and attempt homers at every pitch. I attempt to get on base. If I hit a homer, that's awesome.


So my friend asked me why I still talked to my exes. I had to explain to him that unlike him, all of my exes actually meant something to me. All of my exes could've potentially been my wife had we continued on the path we were going. More importantly, ALL of my exes were first my friends. That's why I'm so adamant to separate girlfriends from bed notches. I actually enjoy the company of my exes. We have inside jokes. We truly are friends. He asked me how it was possible to maintain a friendship with an ex-girlfriend, and I told him that I treat the relationship like we're 'Jerry and Elaine.' See, a long time ago, I realized that the 'Jerry and Elaine' machine is one of the most solid relationships ever recorded on television. I can't think of a better couple-well, maybe Paul and Jamie, (Mad About You) or Frank and Claire (House of Cards) depending on what your tastes are.

"My dreams were all my own, I accounted to them to nobody; they were my refuge when annoyed- my dearest pleasure when free." -Mary Shelley; 'Frankenstein' or 'The Modern Prometheus'