The Ex Files, Part 2

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Actually, this post isn’t specifically about THE ex, rather about us going back to exes in general.

Having just completed an article on the psychology behind getting back together with exes, it made me think. Why DO we do it? Are we gluttons for punishment? God knows I’ve done my fair share of reminiscing and re-hashing of old relationships and hey look…I’m still single! It. Doesn’t. Work.

Yes…I know there will be people who have made it work, and I’m so pleased for them, but in the main it’s a bad idea. It ended for a reason don’t forget. The research I had to do for the aforementioned article made me realise what a bloody fool I’d been! And I only say ‘bloody’ as opposed to the stronger alternative because my daughter reads my blog, and no matter that she is all grown up and expecting her second baby, I still can’t quite bring myself to swear in front of her. Well, not in writing anyway – I can always deny it when it’s spoken!

So, let’s take an old relationship. We got together, we moved in together, it ended and he moved out. Simple. Except it wasn’t, because for some God forsaken reason I missed him and we finally gave it another go. I can hear you all saying ‘aw…that’s so sweet’. Stop it! Now! Step away from the sympathy.  It wasn’t sweet at all, it was stupid and insane and I cannot for the life of me think why I wanted him back.

He had REALLY bad hygiene.

I could just leave that there, but I won’t because there is a lot more to it, and it’s my blog so I’m going to lay it all out there. The guy was a builder (still is as far as I know), and having spent all day on a building site, in mud and cement and all sorts of other unmentionables, he would come home and flop into the chair. And stay there. All evening. In his work clothes. Did you read what I said? He had been on a building site all day, and then wouldn’t even change out of his work clothes when he got home. And it gets worse. He would go to the toilet, not wash his hands (and yep..we’re talking having had a poop-34629_640), and then proceed to eat dinner. Can I just stress that he hadn’t washed his hands all day? At all?

By bedtime he would have been snoring for a good two hours, so was then too tired for a shower, so I would have to share my bed with half the construction yard. And when he got out of bed in the morning the sheets on his side would be brown! The entire length of his body in the bed, just brown. But even worse than that, if I rolled over on to his pillow my face would be wet from where he dribbled on it in his sleep. And, thanks to another disgusting habit of his of not brushing his teeth before bed, the said pillow (ergo my face) would smell of 30 cigarettes, endless coffee and morning breath.

And I went back to him! I am convinced that something malfunctions in our brains when we end a relationship, because just the thought of it…

Now on to his redeeming features………

frog

Bear with me….

 

 

 

Nope, can’t think of any. Not a one. So why do we do this? Any thoughts greatly appreciated.

Until next time

 

Ailish

 

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