Here is a little more thorough explanation of my general mood at the moment.
I am not mad at my ex for getting married again. Far from it. I don't wish her happiness because frankly, I just do not care. I am completely indifferent towards her, her life, who she knows, who she sleeps with, etc, etc, etc.
I guess what bothers me are the reminders that I am not where I want to be, personally. I don't like being reminded that my marriage imploded, then exploded, then ended up on the scrap heap. I have those thoughts on my own. I do not need to hear news about her, nor see her, nor see one of her friends who was a bridesmaid in my wedding to remind me of that.
My roommate was in my wedding. My brother was in my wedding. So was my neighbor, who has been a friend since we were in high school. I have my own reminders, and while they still sting every now and again, the pain lessens and lessens with each passing day and the stings come more and more infrequently.
What annoys me is that I am reminded once again, but through news of her, or seeing someone that works with her (which happens often because we are in the same field). I do not know what stories she may have told them, and frankly I do not care. But seriously, this city is big enough so that I do not have to run into you, right?
And I am not sad. I am just honestly pissed off that I had to be reminded of her through news of her, and yes, seeing her and that bridesmaid (who, truth be told, had her face painted by my roommate the night of my wedding, and he wasn't using Sherwin Williams if you catch my drift).
I have gone to great lengths to keep her far away from me. I have not gone to certain restaurants alone, nor have I ventured into certain parts of the city. I also tend to stay in my area of town since it is convenient and let's be honest, the H Street/Atlas district is pretty fucking awesome. I have also kept people who work with both of us at a great distance. When it comes to them, I am strictly business.
Life goes on. Mine certainly has and it will continue to do so. Hell, in a ton of respects, my life is pretty fucking great. I have a great family, kick ass friends, a nice home, a nice new SUV, and financial stability. Not to mention I managed to grow tomatoes in the shitty ass DC soil (ok, it isn't even soil, its clay, with rocks, brick, and old glass bottles). Seriously, the plants are like 3 feet high now, and I think I am going to have enough tomatoes to feed Italy. Salad or pasta anyone?
And I make my own rules. Now if anyone (preferably a nice blond lady with killer legs and eyes that make you whimper) would care to join me, feel free. Just remember...
STRAP ON YOUR SEAT BELTS!!! It is going to be one hell of a ride.
There, NOW I'm back.