I met Marie almost nineteen years ago at the bookstore. She was three years older than I was, but we got along marvelously. We had similar intellects, values, and senses of humor. She was hella cool. -5.
Well, it didn’t take long for me to like her—as in walk-around-in-a-haze, write-her-stupid-poetry-that-no-one-would-ever-read-but-me like her. 
Couple that with a well-meaning but ultimately misguided coworker who nudged us together, and we went out a couple of times. But it didn’t work out. I was just too young. (21 vs. 18 is a huge three years; perhaps the hugest three years there is.)
Back in the day, I’d have described her as “breaking my heart,” but that was before I’d experienced genuine heartbreak. She was a crush in my late adolescence—a strong crush, but a crush nonetheless.
We got past that mild weirdness—a huge step for me, at that age; remaining in contact with someone I’d formerly “dated” was impressive—and rediscovered most of our previous rapport. We just fell in like Legos. She’d stop to chat “for a sec” on the way out the door, and 45 minutes later, she’d finally leave. You know what I mean.
I happened upon Marie’s email address recently when helping another employee who works at her company (and I know that sounds all stalkery, but it really was a freak accident, so know thyself carnally). I pinged her, she was happy to hear from me, we had lunch two or three times, and it was definitely Legos again. No time had passed. I think we sat at Viet Huong for two hours and fifteen minutes the first time I saw her again. It was tons of fun.
So I got excited about having her and her beau, into whom she seriously was, to our house for dinner, or perhaps our Christmas party. I wanted her to meet Lea, and Lea her. Lea was game, and Marie was enthusiastic when I’d mention it in person, but she never answered me when I tried to make email plans with her. Ultimately she quit answering any email I sent altogether.
So now it’s most of a year since we’ve even communicated at all, after reestablishing contact so wonderfully. I have no idea what happened. I can’t help feeling a bit duped (and being a tad pissed) that apparently I valued our current interaction more than she did. Shit, that part of it felt “just like old times” in all of the wrong ways.
How about “cool but flaky”? Is that fair?
Thanks to gethyp.net for the image.
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Oh, MAN! Let’s talk about THIS! I need some male perspective on this sort of thing.
Last Thursday, Mr. Chili comes home from work. We spent half an hour in the car together, driving to the park to see The Sound of Music with his parents. We see the show, take a ten minute walk back to the car, and drive another half hour (okay, 15 minutes – there was less traffic on the way home) home. Remember this – that’s, what? 55 minutes, right? Okay.
Friday morning, at about 8:30, the phone rings. Punkin’ Pie answers, says “no, he’s not home – do you want to talk to my mom?” and hands me the phone. It’s Jennifer, from so-and-so’s hospitality company, calling to apologize that the cookies that Mr. Chili ordered for Alison’s birthday aren’t going to be shipped until Monday, so they won’t arrive until Wednesday, and is that okay?
Alison is an old girlfriend. He hasn’t mentioned her in years.
I sent him an email (because I knew it’d be a bad idea for me to talk to him on the phone) to give him the message and to ask him to talk to me about this. He emails back that he’d stumbled on a website for a restaurant that they’d gone to together in Philly, and he remembered her birthday was in the first week of August, and he had an old address, so he sent her cookies. Spur of the moment. He didn’t tell me about it earlier because he didn’t have an opportunity to mention it, what with our being so busy yesterday and all (not realizing that this whole story sounds like utter crap. “Spontaneous” is not a word I would apply to my husband, and he had MORE than ample opportunity to say something on Thursday night).
Now, before I go ANY further, I am not at ALL upset that the possibility exists for him to see an old girlfriend. I still see TWO of my formers – I have NO right to complain about his getting in touch with an ex. What I DO have an issue with, though – and what’s contributing, I’m sure, to my current funk – is that he didn’t TELL me that he’d done it. More to the point, I don’t honestly know that he’d have told me if she got in touch with him as a result of the cookies (or even if she has – they were delivered, if the address was correct, on Wednesday).
I hate how that feels.
So, oh Man Friend, what do I do about it?
Two sides to every story; I know you more than I know him; this is only my opinion; blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.
Now that the disclaimers are out of the way, I think you’re correct to be bothered. There are two things: 1) he definitely should have told you about it, and 2) I think buying birthday presents for old girlfriends is AT LEAST odd, and it’s probably reasonable to call it questionable.
Almost all of my close friends are women. I have male friends too, of course, but when it comes to close friends, there’s Charles, and there’s a big pile of babes. I do friend stuff with them: have lunch, run to Best Buy, talk on the telephone, email back and forth, give advice, solicit advice, etc. A good many of them have been in my life at least as long as Lea has, so when Lea and I were getting to know each other, that was part of who I was.
There is no circumstance in which I wouldn’t trust Lea, nor is there a circumstance in which she wouldn’t trust me. And there may be a marriage somewhere clouded by less jealousy than we have, but I guarantee you there aren’t many.
All of that said, even though we both know nothing would happen, there are times that I owe her explanations. It’s not a matter of trust; it’s a matter of decorum and courtesy.
There are a dozen different women, none of whom are my wife and many of whom are themselves married, with whom I could have lunch tomorrow and it would be okay to mention it to Lea after the fact, or even not mention it at all. Switch the environment to a hotel bar, and switch the time from midday to 7 pm? That “no notification” list gets cut in half. Switch it to me on the telephone saying “Lea, she needs help, so I’m driving to her house two states away, and I’ll be crashing on her couch”? There might be two women on that list. Etc. You get the point.
Every circumstance is different, of course. I don’t think many married couples have what Lea and I have in this regard, and I’m proud of it. But it stays as cool as it is largely because of disclosure. Lunch with Marie? Absolutely, I told Lea–before I made any plans, even. Hiking/geocaching with ‘seester? I would never “accidentally” withhold from Lea the fact that my hiking partner for the day was a woman.
Re: your situation: I don’t think you ought to go in guns blazing, but I think you’re right to be upset, and should talk. In my view, you should have been told about the renewed contact, and you definitely should have been told about the birthday present. “Hey, this is bothering me, and I’m ready to feel better about it, so I’d like for us to talk.” Nothing wrong with that. Hugs, and good luck.
Thanks. I know it’s kind of creepy for me to just blurt this out here, but I REALLY appreciate the guy insight.
See, Bo, back in my day we would have referred to you as “The Renaissance Man.”
Mrs. Chili, for what it is worth, most of my friends are guys. And sometimes it does not even cross my mind that a casual act would upset my D. Once I told him I was going to lunch with this guy named Bo and another guy that D knows. He was upset, and honestly, it didn’t occur to me that he would be. But I understand, too, because if he announced he was going off to lunch with some girl I didn’t know, I’d get upset as well.
My point is that sometimes, because there are NO ulterior motives, people just don’t realize that what they did could be perceived as an issue.