THE EX FACTOR

Last week, I had an unexpected encounter with my ex when he showed up to rescue me from a car situation I found myself in. So when my car was up and running and I was barreling home in the middle of the night, I couldn’t help musing; there was a reason they called them “ex”, or wasn’t there? It was pretty interesting for me because my relationship with Ken* (the ex in question) didn’t end in the most pleasant way. He had been so nice to me; he bought me gifts and took me to the fancy places I loved. I, on the other hand, was quite rude and uncaring towards him. In retrospect, I honestly think I was in that relationship for what I was getting out of it. I recall that when I eventually got tired of it and called him to end it, he cried like a baby and begged me not to leave. I severed all forms of communication ties with him and went on my way. Three years later, my car battery is dead and I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere when I call on him for help.

Now I’m at sitting at home asking myself the age old question; “Is it ok to be friends with your ex?” Although I know the answer to this question should be yes, in most cases, I beg to differ. We have all had our fair share of “ex” experiences, some good and some downright ugly. So the real question should be which of our exes are we to make friends with and which of them should we drop like a hot potato?

One particular “ex” experience I had left such a bitter taste in my mouth, I felt like kicking myself for getting into the relationship in the first place. Bobby* and I had been dating for five months while he was away in the UK and everything was just fine. I knew that I was not much of a fan of long distance relationships but Bobby* seemed like a pleasant guy and he always had the right things to say. When he announced that he was coming home on holiday, I was so excited and I looked forward to spending quality time in each other’s presence. When he finally arrived, I discovered that he was quite different from the man I had been talking, chatting and skyping with all this while. The personality change was so quick, I dialed his UK number a couple of times to see if “my” Bobby* would pick up.

The proverbial stroke that broke the camel’s back happened one evening when he picked his phone and started chatting up another girl while I was seated right in front of him. When I expressed my displeasure, he gave me a stern look and asked me to “get out” of his apartment. I was so shocked I couldn’t even speak. On my way out, I met his uncle whom he was staying with who happened to like me a lot. He asked me what happened and when I started to give my side of the story, the tears started pouring from my eyes. He called Bobby* and asked him to apologize as that was no way to treat a lady but he refused. I walked out of the house as embarrassed as I could possibly feel.

A few days later, in an effort to be friends with my ex, I called Bobby* to apologize for being rude in anyway. I hadn’t even gotten a friendly “Hello” out of the way when he started using all the ‘f’ words in the ‘f’ dictionary. He used the ‘b’ word a couple of times and threatened to do something to me if I ever called his number again.

Now, when I juxtapose both “ex” experiences, I can’t help but wonder what the ex factor is. Is it that the ones we are not good to are the ones that make good exes and the ones we are good to make the horrible exes?