I know I’ll run into my ex-boyfriend at a mutual friend’s party tomorrow, and I know his new girlfriend broke up with him last week. For the past two days, I’ve been imagining our conversation:
Him: Hey. How are you?
Me: Good, you?
Him: Well, X and I broke up, actually.
Me: I’m sorry to hear that.
Him: Yeah, I’m sure you are.
Me: Don’t flatter yourself.
This conversation will not take place, at least not anywhere near this form. And I was the one who broke up with him, over a year ago, and I’m happy and swoony over someone new now, and I honestly wish him the best. So why have I spent the past few days perfecting my nonchalant delivery in the bathroom mirror while I dry my hair?
For the same reason I still have scathingly triumphant conversations in my head with X, that bitch from middle school, I’m guessing.