I Am A Dork. And Embarrassed By That Fact.

So, tonight I committed the worst possible breach of Google-stalking/getting back in touch with someone from one's past etiquette. I pushed the issue.

The person in question is my ex, and I broke up with him (10 years ago! How could it have been such a long time already?), so he may not be too thrilled to hear from me anyway. I kind of slightly tracked him down a couple of months ago, but a friend of mine who at least used to be a friend of his tipped me to a current email address and phone number. Like the idiot I apparently am, I sent an email. Then thought it might get swept away unnoticed in a spam filter. So I sent it again two days later with the spam filter explanation and a couple of tweaks to make it less likely to pass by unnoticed.

And then- here's where it gets really embarrassing- a day later, I called him. On the phone. In my (only slight) defense, I thought there was a good chance I was calling a dedicated work line, that I would get voicemail. I was just freaky impatient- what if he doesn't use or check that email address any more? What if he's just blowing me off (which, you know, should have been his prerogative)? What if he's out of town? What if he's moved away and none of these numbers/addresses work any more? My better sense told me to wait, give it some time.

My better sense lost, and how.

He answered the phone (apparently a cell, or forwarded to a cell). He was pretty unenthused to hear from me, I think. Is that lack of enthusiasm a function of timing? Maybe, as he's on vacation (I should have listened to myself!). Or a function of me bugging the shit out of him over the last three days? Maybe that too. It's also entirely possible- I'd lay about even odds- that he would prefer never to hear my name or voice again. Anyway, he was perfectly polite, mentioned that he had received my email, and said he would get back to me when he gets back. We'll see. If he responds- he may not- it may be a short and sweet fuck you. He has no reason to want me back in his life, after all.

I'm mortified by my behavior, of course. And I'm left to wonder: why am I so consumed by the thought of getting back in touch with this person?

It's kind of a jumble in my head, as much as I have been thinking about it. I think one big reason has to do with connection here in Atlanta- I have almost no one to connect with here, and I'm seeking some of that. What better place to start than someone who used to know me better than anyone else? I realize how flawed that reasoning is, but I keep coming back to it. Listen, I think we've already established that I don't necessarily listen to my better judgment.

Added on top of that is the feeling that I miss him. Not the relationship we used to have; I'm perfectly happy in my relationship with Bruce, thanks. No, what I miss is that person in my life; I think I have never quite stopped grieving that I had to lose him- his friendship, his presence, the ways in which he enhanced my life- in losing the romantic involvement. Note that I don't blame him for that; I hurt him pretty badly. I don't blame him in the slightest if he chooses not to talk to me now. It would be the price I will have to pay for not continuing our relationship so many years ago, and I would deserve to have to bear it.

Then finally, layered on top of those other things, is a curiosity about who he is now. His bio info online paints an impressive picture; by all accounts he has been quite successful (not that I ever doubted that he would be- he was always too smart for me). But what sort of person has he grown into? What does he look like? Is he married? Kids? How has he changed, how is he the same?

I think part of this interest has been piqued because Bruce has recently reconnected with an old female friend of his- not an ex, but apparently it wasn't for lack of trying. For them, the timing never worked out. But his reminiscings, plus her enthusiasm for contact with him, started me thinking about people from my past that I would want to talk to again. Also there's that thing of finding refuge in the past. The past has been on my mind a lot lately. Because I am uncertain or worried about the future? Maybe.

Anyway, we'll see (or not) what he thinks about me (or doesn't) next week, if I can get over my mortification. In some sense, I can let it all go now that I have managed to embarrass myself so thoroughly.