As I’ve touched on what feels too many times in other blogposts (me, hung up? Impossible!), I went through what a millennial sociologist may define as a relationship many months ago. At the fling’s conclusion (if you use more casual terms, the memories feel more frivolous!), she spoke of wanting to remain friends. I soundly objected. Of course, I caved because who am I to decline friendship? And I still had feelings for her (me, with a heart? Another fallacy!).

Without surprise, this charade failed. We suffered several trials, extinguished by either she or I for various futile reasons that tiptoed around “you can’t be friends with your ex.” This was always my view and what she denied. I am a Taurus. I insisted she learn what I knew.

For a long spell, we did not speak. I count this as my small victory because she instigated it. During the desert, I met someone else, which I suspected was a temporary ploy to distract myself and proved to be. Nevertheless, I embarked on this doomed fling, though this one seemed destined for failure based on much triter terms like compatibility, ambition, and intelligence.