Overdue Apologies and Relationship Fat

Ever notice how exes seem to come out of the woodwork of your past from time to time? Usually it happens as casually as a next door neighbor popping their head out of their front door to give a little wave in your direction. I've found that this kind of check-in comes in text form and sounds a little something like this "Hey! How are you? I was just thinking you should come over because...(insert inane excuse to see you here)" But these little hello's often follow a dry-spell or a break-up....as if they want to feel out their options...The communication is rarely genuine, and if recieved well, ends in a booty call.

I thought I experienced this cliche myself last week, though the motivation for renewed contact surprised me in the end. It was a regular ol' Tuesday afternoon and I was minding my own business eating a chicken sammie for lunch. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. I looked down and couldn't believe my eyes. There on the screen was a number I hadn't seen for some time. I guess I could call him one of my exes. We dated for a second in the summer, and I should honor this guy by crediting him with the best first date I ever had.

He came to SF from Santa Barbara to take me out. We started out at my favorite Italian restaurant in North Beach and then walked across town to the Wharf. When we got there, we stumbled upon the Cannery....the outdoor bar was projecting the film "The Graduate" and we sat together, holding hands and sipping beers for a while. This was followed by a slow stroll to get dessert at Ghiradelli Square. We snuck through the electronic-key glass doors and onnto the patios of the expensive penthouses located upstairs, following behind some of the residents. This was probably the best view of the wharf that I've ever seen. We sat on luxurious patio furniture and shared a sundae while wood burning fire pits blazed away. We watched the city move beneath us and the water undulate on the horizon. Everything, the date included, moved with a fluid, natural rhythm. Later, we went and got a couple 40's and drank them out of brown bags on the mini beach at the end of the Wharf. I loved the lack of pretension. Nothing was overtly planned....we just walked and did what we wanted, and it just so happened that we always wanted to do the same thing. The night ended with dancing at a rooftop blues club. It was the closest thing to perfect that I've ever known.
Long story short, it turned out that the perfect night left little room for improvement. It was as if the best of our relationship was wrapped up in that one night...and once it was over, it was doomed to failure. Like all great things, it had to end.
But like most people, I was reluctant to let it go. Something that seemed so right for one night had to be worth holding on to. So I stayed, unofficially of course, flitting in and out of his life...Somewhere in October though, he wound up with a 19 year old girl that he met on an inebriated night in IV. I was there, hanging out with mutual friends at his house. She called him Jason all night long (a far cry from his actual name), they slept together, and have been together ever since. I guess I felt betrayed. I had worked on this connection for weeks, and hadn't slept with him...I didn't quite trust him, and rightfully so I suppose. But nevertheless I certainly invested time in this "thing", whatever it was...and in waltzed (or more appropriately, staggered) this young, naive girl who swooped up any attention I once had. I was gracious, and we stayed friends.

But there came a time, somewhere around January, that I realized that my friendship didn't mean much to him. After a brief confrontation, I discontinued all contact. Asked him not to call, and huffily hung up. I erased him from my life, deleting him from all portals of communication.
Now, here we are....last tuesday in May.

"Hey! How have you been? I haven't talked to you in forever! You should come by and see the puppies. Bring Charlie(my old dog)!"

I vagueley recognized the area code, but warily asked "New phone, who is this?"

"XXXXX!"

"Ooo...." My mind raced...what did he want to see me for? It had been 4 months of silence.

Apparently he had three puppies now, at his house. I had heard about one. One puppy wasn't enough to erase all the bad stuff...But three certainly were.

However hesitantly, I agreed to meet him that night at his house. Fortunately, one of my best friends is dating his roommate, so I quickly coordinated her presence so that I had a buffer there. She made me instantly more comfortable, especially since XXXXX's girlfriend was there on the couch when I arrived. XXXXX and I exchanged awkward pleasantries. He smiled and moved sheepishly as if somewhat cogizant of the wall I built to block him out.

I left his house that night feeling slightly better about the way things ended with him.

The next morning I got a text from the long forgotten phone number: "Thanks for stopping by :) I'm really sory about how I handled things between us. I feel really bad and there's no reason why we shouldn't be friends"

It was the first unprompted apology I ever recieved after a messy end to a relationship. A wave of relief washed over me. I even felt myself exhale deeply, as if I had stored up a ball of toxic energy that I buried somewhere in my stomach since that day and finally was able to release it. To be honest, I told myself and others that aside from the fabulous first date, I put little importance on my relationship with XXXXX.
Isn't it funny how the termination of a seemingly unimportant relationship can still make us immensely uneasy? A simple and genuine apology forced me to confront feelings that I had denied and surpressed for months of silence and indignance.
But not all of us are so lucky....there are many wrongs that will never be rectified. There are many wounds that won't ever heal neatly with the band-aid of an apology. Instead, they will form into jagged scars that present themselves and shock new significant others in future relationships--ugly and painful to look at.
For those less fortunate than me, who don't forsee such a healing interaction on the horizon, please take comfort in the inevitable:

His new-relationship fat ;-)