Last weekend I walked out of my apartment and almost ran into THE EX. As in the big, fat-ass blob I was with for more than 2 months. And for the first time in the 4 years that we've been broken up, he didn't wave stupidly at me when he saw me. Possibly because he was actually walking with another girl.
As my sister points out, I run into my ex more than anyone else she knows. It's occurred to me though that this is my own freakin' fault. He was living in Delta - in his parent's basement when I met him. Yeah, yeah, I know...and no, I don't know what the hell I was thinking at the time. Anyways, it was ME that moved him into Yaletown. I moved him into my own neighbourhood!
Once I got past the anger with myself, I did have a great giggle cause he's got his cool, frosted tips back :)
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