I like to keep in touch with old boyfriends. Partly due to being nosy, partly out of calendar compulsion, partly out of wanting to stay on good terms with anyone who has seen me naked. A friend recently shook her head in bemusement about this habit of mine. "You and your ex's," she smiled.
Contact usually takes the form of a birthday e-mail sent by me to them. Innocuous enough. If they care to reply, great. If not, fine. If they care to reply six months later, also fine. I like to hear about their wives, girlfriends, children, grandchildren(!), careers, cross-country moves, adjustments in sexuality(!) and states of mind. It makes me smile to see their names in my in-box. It's heartening to know they're doing OK in that big crazy world out there. After all, they are a significant part of my history. And they were all good blokes for the most part. We just weren't meant to be a permanent match.
And to think--if I ever write my memoirs, I won't have to bear the expense of hiring a private investigator to track down past paramours for candid interviews and fond remembrances. Convenient, indeed!
No comments:
Post a Comment