ex-cruciating

Tuesday was apparently National Text Your Ex Day–an unofficial holiday created, no doubt, by people who have bad ideas, and practiced only by people who like to put bad ideas into action.  Although I fall into both these categories, I did not, in fact, text any of my exes Tuesday because I just didn’t get drunk enough.  But the fallout from Text Your Ex Day conveniently landed on Halloween, and I’m sure involved a significant amount of candy and macabre thoughts, fitting in well with the general ambiance of the holiday yesterday.  Some (me) might call candy and tears a normal Saturday night, but I’m sure for anyone who made the mistake of actually texting their ex, the amount of both needed to recover from a return text from their ex’s wife or husband was far in excess of my normal breakdowns. At least I can take solace in knowing that I was not the only one who treated herself to Xanax, Adderall, and cupcakes yesterday.

I also did not get any texts Tuesday.  I don’t get texts from my exes, because I’m easy to forget and even if that weren’t the case, their wives are a constant and convenient reminder of the upgrade they made from me.  But if I did get these texts, I would have a stock wedding photo on hand to immediately send back.  And I’m talking about a photo of me, here, not of some cat wedding I officiated.  Specifically, a photo of me, with a man (my man), in a wedding dress (I’m in the wedding dress), looking elated (both of us) about the huge rock on my finger (ca$h money), with diamonds, sapphires, and gummy candy raining down in the background (in and or around my mouth).  Oh, and we’d both be riding on a Pegasus.  Obviously.  If I were to really do it right, I would fake a wedding registry in anticipation of next year’s Text Your Ex Day.

I had an ex that did that once, actually.  It was super creepy, but certainly not creepier than my stalking habit, which invariably lead me to that information.  And did I mention I found out it was fake through my ex–a prerequisite to which was calling attention to the fact I knew.   I really showed him!  No, no, I didn’t.  Well, I showed him something …  the shame of him knowing how creepy I am was enough to keep me from ever wanting to contact him again, even on a national day that encourages creepy stalking.  I might as well tattoo “stalker” on my forehead as a public service announcement.  Isn’t there a website on which people like me are supposed to register?  Oh yeah, Twitter.

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2 Comments

  1. Sonya

    This post was all over the place (in a good way), but I am at a loss on what to say. I don’t know you at all, but I assume that you are wrong about the “upgrade.” You had to mean something to them at some point and I am sure you run across their minds once in a while in a what would be type of way.

    I know nothing about Twitter but that it is for stalkers and since I have one (a friend from high school how jacked is that?) I am pretty much never joining that horrible abyss that is twitter.

    So you found out your ex faked his wedding photo? Am I understanding that correctly? He clearly put it up for a reason and for that I think you are absolved of all stalker status’ you might have accumulated after having discovered that. Though I am no one to tell you you are off scott-free since I too stalked my ex (or checked in… checked in is a better way of putting it) only to discover photos of myself and him that had been updated as recently as 2010; one month before he got married to the woman he left me for and the caption on one of our photos was “The love of my life.” In many ways I wish I hadn’t found that, it means nothing and yet it has sucked me in… so why oh why did your ex do what he did? It’s like we mind fu** one another.

    Facebook = Mind Fu** Twitter = Stalker Maybe the common enemy here is the internet.

  2. catsinyourpants

    I am all over the place, in so many ways. But thanks for reading and commenting! The story is, my ex faked a wedding registry. At the risk of sounding like a total stalker, I was off Facebook at the time but was trying to tell a friend about a particular picture I had seen on his Facebook page before. So I searched his name, thinking it would pop up his Facebook page, and I could link to the photo. Instead, it pulled up a wedding registry. To complete the stalker circle, I looked at it, and totally scoffed at all the REALLY expensive things they were asking for. As if! It’s an even longer and more pathetic story as to how he found out I found out, and how I learned it was fake. I’ll save that one for my cat.

    I’m sorry to hear about your internet find. People post shit like that to be found, 100 percent. If we go looking for it, we’re almost sure to find it, and it’s not worth the satisfaction they get from knowing we have. I’ve quit Facebook and am only on Twitter to feed my blog through it, so my exes couldn’t find me if they tried ( = heaven).

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