"It Is a Race! I Hope I Win!"

So said Rowan Atkinson's character in Rat Race. He was racing for a prize of $10 million; he had a goal in site and knew when he would reach the ending. He knew that was how the race would be measured: whoever got the prize money first would be the winner. It was a real race, not one that was just fabricated in his mind.

So in the time that has passed between the last post about the Ex, I have moved past the point of wanting to get back together. Ick ... no. My trip to Europe came at a good time and helped put a lot of perspective on things. Sure, we still keep in contact, and I see him out on average once a week. I got him a small gift for his birthday (a book that he told me he wanted a while back), which he seemed to appreciate. So things continue to move in a positive direction for us friends-wise.

However, there's still tension, most of which felt internally on my part. It's primary source is embarrassment from even having dated him. He's shown me (and others) some not-too-admirable parts of his personality, and while I chalk it up to mainly immaturity and self-centeredness, it has jolted me from wanting to date him anytime in the near future.

So why do I care anymore? Well, two reasons. I somehow feel that the worse he acts, the worse it makes me look. Remember, he dumped me, so I apprently wasn't good enough for him (not entirely accurate, I know, but worse case scenario that's what I fear people will think). The second reason is, as I hinted above, we're in a race in my mind: a race to be the most popular, the most connected, the most successful, the most desireable .... All of this is subjective, of course. Who's to say who has the better body or the better looking face? People have different types and find different things desireable. How do you know who's winning? How do you know when the race is over? The bottom line is you don't ... you can't. So is it really a race if there is no objective measure of success or victory?

Plus I've put myself in some masochistic corner ... the more I hear about his shenanigans, I feel like it makes me look foolish. BUT it also makes me think he's more popular than I am. I know, so junior high, right? But the mind and heart are strange things. It ISN'T a contest. But since I was the dumped instead of the dumper, for some reason I feel this duty to look as if it doesn't phase me, like I bounced right back and I'm better off than I was, like the Ex and I not being together is a good thing (which I know it is ultimately). The Ex, being the dumper, already has a leg up on me, I feel, so I have to save face somehow.

Hey, tsk tsk and shake your head all you want, and I DO realize that I'm talking crazy talk, but I have made a lot of progress in three months, both internally and externally with the Ex. In fact, I had a date with one of his friends last weekend. It went well, he's a nice guy, but it probably won't go anywhere ultimately (just a hunch). But I'll probably see him a couple more times before I pull the plug (just to make sure). And while none have turned into much, I am going out and meeting lots of people, so who knows ;).