Whining & Dining #7: Running into an Ex Whilst Reading Intermezzo on a Bus

WHINING & DINING | COLUMN | WHENUA | TOUCHING GRASS

Written by Elle Daji (she/her) | @ellemnopow | Contributing Columnist

Edited by Tashi Donnelly (she/her) | @tashi_rd | Feature Editor

I was walking along Ponsonby Road. Past closing shops, opening bars, through the dappled golden hour light and one martini deep. But something snatched away at my bliss. A blinding eyesore, with a mop of yellow hair, sitting and smoking a cigarette outside my favourite bar. The love of my previous Sunday night. Nothing particularly awful about the experience, and by no means did it end on bad terms. And yet, he had the gall to give me a swift nod of his head and awkwardly avert his gaze to his phone. I heard the weather app is particularly enthralling these days. Sick to my stomach with embarrassment, I began to wonder, how are we meant to cope with the nightmarish experience of seeing the ones we once felt for. 

Running into an ex or an ex-lover is startling at best and at worst leaves us bedridden and stalking their followers into the wee hours of the morning. Unfortunately, anyone living in Tāmaki Makaurau will tell you about how they ran into their cousin, best-mate from high school, coworkers, a friend of a friend, and that one diva they lent lip liner to in the Whammy Bar bathroom; and all within ten minutes walking the length of Ponsonby Road. We unfortunately live in the unavoidable reality of seeing the ones you once loved, even if it was only for a minute. So let me get a map, we’ve got some navigating to do. 

Sometimes you’ll run into someone you saw for such a brief amount of time, you forgot it even happened. But they often remind you, by existing in the same space as you, how dare they! Sometimes you can get away unscathed, with a mere, and undoubtedly halfhearted, “Hi, how are you? Bye!” It’s so nice when people act like decent human beings to avoid awkwardness. 

Other times, it's a snub. They pretend not to see you, or respond to your greeting with a flat smile and proceed to ignore you while sitting on the opposite side of the cafe you’re both at. It’s moments like these that lead to a spiralling whirlpool of anxiety. Going over every minutiae of your fleeting relationship for the next six hours. You call three of your friends, repeating yourself so often you start to wonder if it even happened. I find this to be largely unhelpful, shocking. People are strange, and some are better at dealing with the complexities of these encounters than others. I’ve learnt that it’s usually nothing personal. Even if it was something you did, bruises always heal and that ego will be fine. 

However, it’s usually the ones who you dated for a while that hurt the most. Where your lives became so enmeshed they cannot be separated. And you’re both so lovely your friends unfortunately can’t pick between the two of you. Annoyingly, there is no quick fix to getting through a break up of that kind. Moving on during no contact is difficult enough, let alone seeing them go through the same process you are. Proximity can make you want them back, despite your better instincts, and your friends' pleas against it. I spent a year doing that dance with my ex, doing my best twirls to and fro because I had no self-control. 

Unfortunately, in this situation, that’s what you need. Sufficient knowledge that being single is probably better than returning to the relationship. It did, in fact, end for a reason. Far easier said than done, but that’s when you turn to your closest friends. I’ve heard they are great listeners, and are brilliant at preventing poor life decisions. After a while you start to build a life distinct from theirs and the pain of being near them begins to dissipate. 

And then there’s the one we dread the most. The one place that is even harder to escape. A screen lighting up at 2am, breaking the month of no contact, explaining how they have changed. Shattering your boundaries, thinking apologising for doing so will suffice. Blocking someone seems like the logical answer, but by this point, it can often be difficult to actually take that step. It can be so easy to want to reply. The itch of closure is all too easy to scratch, or to list every single way they’ve once wronged you. With a flurry of fingers hitting a screen, unleashing pent-up heartache has never been so easy, and unfortunately, never a good idea. 

I do hope the stars align, and you never bump into someone you used to see. Sometimes they’ll ask if you ever wrote about them in your column about relationships in your local student magazine. Unfortunately for them, the answer will still be no. Other times you run into the guy you once saw that was in a cult, two days in a row. Thank you to my friends for having such odd types. And with that, I wish you well. It’s tough trying to find your person whilst leaving a trail of bad dates in your wake. However, seeing the old roster regularly gets easier as time goes on and you gain more experience. And with a little bit of persistence and  you’ll find yourself in the glorious position of realising it no longer bothers you.