I have a secret. Kind of. Not only do I watch reality TV, and not afraid to admit it, but I also (every once in a while) google ex boyfriends late at night. And no, I’m not GWI (googling while intoxicated).
What I am is curious. Curious about a life I did not chose. But wait, there’s more….not only do I google the ex boyfriends, I’ve also been known to google a couple not ex boyfriends, men I’ve dated and wish were exes, but unfortunately, for whatever reason, never made it that far, to boyfriend territory. Why am I googling away in the dark? What is it about the past that seems so attractive? It’s all about the what if.
What if I’d married (insert name here)? What if I’d lived with (insert another name here)? What if I’d had children with (insert name that does not belong here)? What if I’d actually been more serious with (insert name I know would never be here)?
One of the names that could be inserted in the last question above emailed me the other day. It was a very exciting day. The email came from one of the not exes, a good looking, successful, funny guy I had only dated a couple of times from New York City that I met online. I like to call him Bad Timing (insert name here), because when I was dating someone, he was single, and when I was single, he was dating someone, and so it never happened. At least that’s why I think it never happened. Who knows why it never really happened? But my heart pounded like crazy when I saw this particular name in my box.
The weird thing is another not ex called a few days before Bad Timing (insert name here) emailed me. Only this not ex was a nice cute guy I’d met on the airplane. We only dated a couple times, though I probably should have never dated him at all, considering we had absolutely nothing in common, religion in particular. Still, it was exciting to hear his voice. He wanted to meet me in the city for a drink. I didn’t return the call.
Now I hadn’t seen or spoken to either one of these guys in years, like ten years, maybe more, so when I told The Husband about what happened, he said, “What the hell did you do to these guys?”
Fact of the matter is I did nothing. Not one thing. We went on like four or five dates, we kissed, we had a nice time, and that’s it. Which is why, I think, they wonder about me and why, I know, I wonder about them. Still. After all this time. You see now I’m the mystery girl. The what if girl. And being a what if girl feels absolutely amazing.
“Don’t they know you’ve got a cat, a car, a kid, a house, and a mortgage?” The Husband asked.
“Probably not,” I said, because how the hell would they know about my cat, my car, my kid, my house, or my mortgage? Unless they read the blog.
After the initial excitement wore off, I started wondering about their lives, and if they had a house, a cat, a car, a kid, and I hoped to god they didn’t have a wife. I mean they were the ones contacting ME! Hey, I’m just a googler, not a contacter – big difference. Though I did email Bad Timing (insert name here) back to find out why we had such bad timing. He never answered.
The burning question is did they REALLY think my life had stood still after all this time? Perhaps they hoped it had. There’s probably a reason they hoped it had. Sometimes it’s just safer to turn to the past than to move forward. Or maybe, just maybe, I really am just a what if girl. And that’s it. Nothing more.
God I love being a what if girl.
Yeah, that's me, the one standing in the aisle wearing flammable polyester...