I met The Boss (no, not Bruce Springsteen) when I was a 22-year-old intern. After graduation, when the company hired me as a junior copywriter, The Boss became my supervisor, checking every bit of work I did, mentoring me, making me laugh, becoming the kind of teacher a schoolgirl couldn’t help but crush on.
At 25, when my college boyfriend and I broke up, The Boss seemed the next natural choice for me to pursue. Especially because I’d built a towering, gilded pedestal for him to reside upon. It didn’t matter that he was 7 years my senior, or that what we had was really just a convenient friendship in his eyes, I was bent on making him mine.
So I did. Kinda.
We had a half-hearted on again off again relationship for over two years. I thought the sun rose and set in his image. He thought I was a really nice gal. By the fall of 2003, I realized the error of my ways (read: he broke up with me yet again) and I finally let go. But we stayed friends.
We’d been friends for so long, I couldn’t imagine being anything else. We ended up traveling together to Cape Cod for another friend’s wedding; we went camping in the sierras; we still met up for dinner and movies. But this time it was better because it was a completely platonic relationship—the way it should’ve been all along.
Now, nearly 5 years later, my dear friend The Boss is getting married to an incredible girl. I could not be happier for him…so I am embarking on a trip to Minnesota to attend his wedding. Some people think I’m crazy for going to watch an ex get married. But now, he’s just a former colleague and great person who helped me learn to write. (And the thought of kissing him gives me the willies and mild dry heaves). So I can’t imagine not seeing him walk down that aisle.
What do you all think? Have you stayed friends with any exes?