My Dear John Letter (A Message To My Ex)  

This isn't going to be a post bashing my ex (who may or may not actually be named John). I'm not going to rant and rave about how I thought me and my high school sweetheart would be together forever, about how he broke my heart, or about what a big mistake he made. While all those things were true-- at one time-- they are not true any longer. In fact, I owe a lot to "John".

Dear John,

When you dumped me unceremoniously just minutes after my cousin's wedding (while I was still wearing my ice-blue bridesmaid gown), it felt like a scene from "Legally Blonde". I thought my life was over. I thought that at age 20, my love life was washed up. We'd spent three years of our life together. We'd dealt with my father losing his job, your parents divorce, and both of us going to colleges four states apart. I couldn't imagine a world without you.

For years, I did everything I could just to spite you. To show you how much better off I was without you. To prove that you'd made a huge mistake letting me go from your life. Even once I'd moved on with the man who would become DH, I still ranted and raved about the injustices and ills you'd done to me.

Then, something happened. I'm not sure exactly when it began, but ever-so-slowly, my hate started to melt away. I found myself missing the friendship that we'd shared for so many years. I started wondering what you were up to, how your life was, and-- yes-- even how your love life was going. You must have felt that too, because around the exact same time, you also began reaching out to me.

We both know the exact moment all that pent-up anger and frustration finally found its resolution. It was Easter Sunday 2004-- the day my grandmother invited you, your mother, and your then girlfriend (poor, poor "M"-- if only she'd known what she was in for that day) over for a holiday lunch with our entire family. It was the day DH & I announced our engagement. I think in that moment, we both realized there would never be an "us" again, and, that that was a good thing.

Over the 5+ years since, you've been there for me every step of the way. When I came crying to you one cold, January night a mere five months before I was to walk down the aisle, telling you I wasn't sure I could do it, you reminded me that I'd never been good at life's changes, and that I was simply getting cold feet, and that I'd get over it. You were right. On my wedding day, you joined one of DH's best friends in handing out programs to our guests, as many of my distant relatives whispered to one another, "Wait, isn't he the groom?" (Apparently, many of my extended family never got the message we'd broken up and I'd moved on.) When DH & I moved into our first apartment together, you came and helped us celebrate, and became not only my friend, but his too.

Then there's the night I'll never forget. I was working late at the TV station in March 2007 when I got a call from a mutual friend, "L". You'd been in a horrific motorcycle accident, you were clinging to life, your phone had been destroyed, and no one could find your mother. Did I know where she was, and how to reach her? I did, and I called her on a business trip to Las Vegas to tell her she needed to get home, her son was on life support. I sent my mother to the hospital to hold vigil in the waiting room with all your family and friends. I prayed to God he wouldn't take my best friend away from me again. Then, on another Easter Sunday, three years after our first "reconnection", God answered all our prayers and brought you back to me one more time.