Sunday Interrupted

I am addicted to the newspaper – especially the Sunday papers.  In a perfect world, I sagaciously read the Washington Post and the NY Times cover to cover and without interruption (unless there is a rather interesting woman with whom I am sharing a bed and the papers and interruption takes the form of sporadic bits of great conversation or kisses) every Sunday.  Most often, however, I read the papers in spurts, finishing towards the end of the evening while watching a game from the stool of a bar.

This past Sunday evening I was breezing through the last pages of the Style & Arts section of the post when I was gobsmacked by a picture. In the middle of the page that is porn for the Cotillion and Sorority set a.k.a. Wedding Announcements, there was an ex-girlfriend’s smile.  The smile that could warm even Dick Cheney’s heart was shown next to her fiancé’s whose details I would not remember. 

At one point in our relationship, I knew with the certainty of my own name that she and I would marry.  We ended for good reasons – reasons that do not reflect well on either of us but especially me – and our fundamental incompatibility was an easy conclusion for us both.  Yet, I sat there taking shallow breaths and stared at her picture for a longer than I should have feeling like I had just received a sucker punch to the soul.

Time plays parlor tricks with memories of all but the most horrific relationships, and time was pulling half dollars from my ear for what was surely too long.

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7 Responses to Sunday Interrupted

  1. Lisa says:

    Ow ow ow. How painful. Yes, time plays parlor tricks with memories of all but the most horrific of relationships. That’s a great way to put it.

    thankfully the magic show ended after a few minutes.

  2. Lemmonex says:

    I have an ex from college. Well, kind of an ex…we didn’t really date, per se, but more made 4 years worth of mistakes. He is the only “ex”, where when he gets married, I think I will sob a little on the inside. I actually love his current girlfriend, but still. He is the one that got away and I still miss having him close to me sometimes.

    Cognitively I know that she was never the one, but that only mitigated the suckitude slightly.

  3. Kristin says:

    I swear I’m a fluffer for commitment – every guy I date proposes to the next girl. Sometimes, while we’re dating. Every time, though, I feel blindsided when I hear the news. Someday, maybe, I’ll learn.

    Sorry to hear about the interruption to your Sunday activity of choice.

    sounds like a marketing opportunity to me.

  4. i had to look up that big word…damn..
    xoxo

    so did I when someone used it in an email to me a few days ago.

  5. Shannon says:

    A relationship is never really over until one of you gets married.

    or she steals your favorite sweater, sets it ablaze in the front yard, and threatens castration… not that I have ever had any experiences like that.

  6. When my ex husband got married, my only thought was “What is SHE thinking?”

    If I ever remarry, I am sure that a few people will be having the same thoughts about me.

  7. [F]oxymoron says:

    Whoa… I’m not sure which is more shocking. Your story, or the fact that you used the word gobsmacked!

    If I am going to be smacked (not to say that I am into that,) it is nice when it is by a gob.

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