I’ve been many things in my life. A daughter, a sister. A student, a teacher. A friend, a foe. A lover, a fighter. But one thing I’ve neer been was the NEXT girl. I’ve always been the ex. As in THE ex. But at this day and especially my age, everyones gonna have an ex, leaving me to from now on be the next. And quite frankly, I don’t know how to deal with it.
When I was younger, ’til about my early twenties, maybe even 25, I was one nosy, petty ass, researching bitch. When I met a new dude who I was feelin, it was second nature for me to dig up his relationship history. Find out who his ex was, what she looked like, when they broke up, why they broke up, what they did on their anniversary, etc. etc. etc. Everything short of her shoe size and favorite cereal. WHY? Because I’m fucking masochistic.
Yet all the investigating never did me any good. Like, NEVER. All it did was drive me crazy, and stress me the fuck out for nothing. I basically let the past get in the way of the present, and I knew this was happening even at the time. It’s just that I was too young and too stubborn to recognize that the past is the past for a reason. Just like how ex’s are ex’s for a reason, regardless of how intense the relationship or break-up.
I always write about how females shouldn’t sweat the girl who preceded them, especially if it was me. Because it’s a whole new chapter in a whole new book. One where I’m not a character in it. But I’ll admit, its easy for me to say this because I haven’t been in that situation as a grown-ass woman yet. So who knows. All I do know is. I DON’T WANT TO KNOW ANYTHING.
Don’t ask, don’t tell son. And really? Just don’t ask ‘cuz it shouldn’t matter. IT DOESN’T MATTER. No matter which side you look at it. It’s rude. It’s incosiderate. It’s unecessary. And it’s none of your fucking business.
Unless she is still a part of NOW? I don’t care what she was or how yall were THEN. Not her name. Not her occupation. Not how she looks (ok maybehow she looks lol). Not what car she drove. If she could sing. If she could dance. If she was athletic. Not how long yall were together. Or why yall broke up. And definitely not how the sex was. Because I don’t want to wonder if I’m meeting the standards the last girl left behind.
All I wanna do is do US, continue to have fun, and enjoy each others company RIGHT. FUCKING. NOW.