An Open Letter to All of My Ex-Girlfriends (Or Whatever We Were)

Dear All of My Ex-Girlfriends.

For many years now, I have operated with the assumption that you all meet together on a weekly basis in some secret location (it probably changes every week) to talk about what a stupid jerk I am and how much you hate me.  At least, if you don't all physically meet in one location, you've started a Facebook group or are planning to write a collaborative-effort book or something.  There are many reasons for my belief in this, not least of which is the obviously sweet group-rate discount that would accompany a membership so vast.  But I think I might have thought up a couple more reasons why I believe this to be the case.

First of all, most of you seemed so angry and hurt when we broke up (or fizzled out, or burst into flames, or whatever you want to call it) that it just makes sense to me that you would somehow gravitate toward each other and be able to deal with the pain better by  not having to go through it alone; a kind of a support-group, if you will: find enough people who have been or are going through the same thing you are and build a sort of family out of it that helps you work through your emotions.

Second, as you probably learned throughout the course of our dating-relationship, I'm something of a paranoid individual in the first place and a secret committee of all my exes just plays well to that part of my brain.  I like to picture myself as Batman (again, something you probably picked up along the way) scrolling through a super-computer of his rogue's gallery and all your mugshots and bios, strengths and weaknesses, current and/or last known whereabouts, etc. in the event that I end up in a face-off with you again.

Third, finally, and more seriously, I think I tend to picture you guys like this because I'm selfish.  Not only do I regard most (if not all) of you in an antagonistic sense, I think of myself as some kind of innocent bystander who just happened to get caught up in something he didn't understand and can't really be held responsible for that unintentionally didn't work out and has now become some weird, female-driven conspiracy as a result.  I never set out to hurt any of you.  Honest, I really didn't.  Whether you believe me or not, it's the truth. 

But it's also the truth that I did hurt a number of you, and rather than face that truth and ask for mercy and help or anything at all, really, I usually shuffled the blame off on the circumstances and shrugged my shoulders because... well, honestly, because I didn't know what else to do.  At the time, things didn't seem to be working out, and "things not working out" was like a death sentence to me.  The fear I feel from watching my parents "not work out" for the majority of my life has driven me to chop the head off anything I thought was heading in that direction.  It's basically crucifying someone for someone else's crimes.  That's a shitty and horrible thing to do to a person.  I'm sorry I did it to you.

I wish that there was something I could do to fix the damages I've done over the years.  I should probably offer to pick up the tab for next week's dinner-meeting or whatever, but a.) I couldn't pay it if I wanted to and b.) I assume that part of your nefarious scheme is to run up a huge tab in my name anyhow.  I guess I just wanted you all to know that I'm not the heartless pig you probably think I am.  I still remember all the promises I went back on and all the stupid things I said to try and minimize the damage and I still feel guilty for all of it.  You probably think I deserve to and, heck, maybe I do.  Maybe this is just another reason for you guys to keep meeting up like you do. 

But for whatever it's worth, however badly I screwed up with you, I really am trying to get better.  I really am looking for ways to make amends and I really am trying to make sure that your membership doesn't keep growing.  Some days I feel like I'm a failure on all accounts, some days I don't.  But I really am trying. I hope you believe me.

So on that note, and in lieu of saying something cheesy and trite, I'll thank you for your time and bid you farewell.  "The LORD grant that you may find rest, each of you in the house of her husband!"

Sincerely,

Pairsh Wiggins