Stalking an Ex's Love Life on Facebook
I'd like to commend myself for being FB friends with most of my ex-girlfriends/hookup buddies (well, at least the ones that don't have a restraining order). I think it says to me that I was such a good guy during the relationships and that so little animosity arose posthumously because of my kind, gentle, and simplistic nature. It's that winning combination that sometimes confuses people into thinking I'm borderline retarded. Sure, people may cut up my food for me in small, easy-to-chew bites, but little do they know, my mind works in mysterious ways.
Over the last few years, I've noticed an inevitable trend. As I spend each weekend re-living my high school senior trip, I see these women I used to date, get engaged, married, buying houses, and having kids. I am truly touched that these women were able to find such relative happiness, knowing that their lives and husbands pale in comparison to the grandeur of life with me. Instead of enjoying cereal at 3pm and watching cartoons en route to a Swanson's Hungry Man dinner, they now must deal with the rigors of wearing a diamond ring and smiling all the time. Smiling adds wrinkles, ask Nicole Kidman or Asian women wearing Darth Vader visors while driving - they'll tell you.
As I scour these ex's FB pages following the obligatory, "OMG, just got engaged! And I said YESSSS!" posts, complete with ring picture, I can't help but look at the guys they're with and think, "man, I ruined it for her, because this guy's a chump. She must've just started dating the next rebound because she was so demoralized after me." I then break down each guy in a show of maturity and class: "his pants are too baggy," "he'll have a gut in 5 years," "he has a job!?! Making 6 figures? Money isn't that important," "I bet he beats her," "he probably buys his clothes from the toilet store," and my favorite, "he kinda looks cross-eyed."
After I've had myself a good chuckle, I smile warmly (but not too big - don't want wrinkles afterall) and wish them the best. That's when I sadly cross them off my 2am drunk dial list and hide them from my newsfeed - never to be heard from again. Sure, I could still be friends, but husbands are weird about their wives being friends with an ex as debilitatingly handsome as me. I'm not a home-wrecker, I'm a home-supporter.
So..... to all my exes, I wish you the best. If your marriage ever falters, I'll be the first one to post on your wall: "hey, how's it going?" But in the meantime, please don't burden your husbands under the cloud of excellence created by those 3 minutes of passion with me. Let them be their own men and while you may never forget me, you may in time, think about me less.