Ex

That syllable, or word, has been playing in my mind over and over again for some time now (so, let me write down my thoughts on it just to get it out of my mind). “Ex” has always had a tragic connotation for me. It means that a relationship didn’t work out in spite of several attempts (sometimes just one or none at all…depends actually on the people involved) to fix it. And we know that fixing relationships is not as easy as fixing a leaking faucet. Fixing a relationship doesn’t only require time and physical exertion of effort; it also requires emotions and that makes it doubly or triply hard (whatever…it is always harder!) and all the more tragic if everything would be in vain.

My friend has been referring to her ex-boyfriend in our conversations as “ex.” I still do not understand why she still cannot refer to him using his name when she said that she had moved on… or maybe not yet. That could explain it. I feel bad when people refer to some people in their lives as “exes” although I have my share of exes and whenever I refer to them as such, I feel bad. I have an ex-best friend and an ex-friend. I would like to think that I also have an ex-boyfriend or an ex-fling (I have yet to resolve what to call that relationship) but I refuse to call him my “ex” simply because he has had a positive, profound effect in my life. He taught me things about business and the more important things in life like forgiveness, patience in dealing with people, and humility so I often refer to him by a nickname I coined for him instead of calling him my “ex-whatever”.

For me, calling someone “ex” means crossing out someone from my life, like totally wiping him out of a slate, like putting liquid eraser over his name on the list of people I value and love. And that is sad. Because no matter how badly things turn out for a relationship, there are lessons to be learned, as always, if not from the person himself, at least from the experience.

I have been on both the extreme ends of saving a relationship. I was once the person someone reached out to so she could save our friendship. But I was too proud and hurt by what had happened in the past that I didn’t reach out my hand in return. She might have gotten tired of saving what could have been a 12-year friendship by today that she just stopped reaching out altogether. By the time I had shaken the pride and the hurt, she was gone. Yes, she is the ex-best friend. Sad.

I, too, reached out to someone to save our friendship. But I think we all come to a point when we realize that something is not working anymore; that we can only do so much to save a relationship; that our own efforts will not be enough because unless the other party dances with us and complements our steps, the tango will not be a success. I got tired of dancing on my own so I stopped reaching out. Yes, that person is the ex-friend. Sad.

The truth, though, is that even though I would like to put liquid eraser over their names on the list of people I value and love, they will still leave their mark on the list because of the space they will be creating. The mark of the liquid eraser on the list will still be visible even though I write a new name over the dried liquid eraser mark. The truth is, even though I try to obliterate them from my life, I cannot because I learned lessons from them and/or the relationship. Even though I could be successful in forgetting the feelings those people’s presence in my life brought to me while we were still together, shards of memories would remain. Even though I wouldn’t feel joy or pain anymore when I remember our times together, the memories will remain. And even though I shake off the memories, the lessons remain. The truth is, I cannot utterly remove them from my life.

So, let me think of a new term. Former friend? Past friend? Onetime friend? What do you say?