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Ex-story Part II

There is no other appropriate title for this post. Some of you might remember the article that was published in Trevvy, written by me. Some of my close friends will know the never-ending drama that is caused by a former romantic interest. Fewer still will know the whole story about what really happened – but that’s alright, this blog is not an autobiography of me, and this post is not a cathartic-vent-my-emotions to the world piece.

This, is rather about the hilariously bizarre incidents in my life, concerning not just my ex, but exes once and twice removed. Some of you will remember me complaining that I almost ran into my ex’s ex, whom I shall call Tina*, at Vagina Monologues, which freaked me out enough to hide behind dear old Manqin, who could not have hid me more than a bonsai plant could. Those who know the story know exactly why I prefer to hide from her – the woman is both psychopathic and clever enough to kill me and make it look like an accident (yes, I am exaggerating… but not by much). If I could have dove into the bushes to hide, I would have, but sadly, the potted plants in the lounge were no bushes.

The incident happened at a most unfortunate time – only half an hour ago, I was protesting my innocence to Manqin who had labelled me a drama queen.

Damn you, Tina… ruining my pretense is way worse than stalking me.

So today, Yisheng offered me a free ticket to go watch a malay play, Sidang Burung. Of course I jumped at the chance for a freebie, while wondering at the back of my mind whether I was going to run into Tina again. This time, I was ready with an exit plan – run like devil was chasing me. To effect that plan to the maximum, I was even wearing flats, instead of my much-beloved heels.

Come to think of it, those could have been rather useful as weapon of self-defense.

But something much more interesting happened. After the play, who should join me and Yisheng but a girl named Dana. Name: check. Appearance: check. Boyfriend in tow: check. In all of three seconds, my brain had run a search with these parameters, and came up with 90% positive identification.

I had just met Tina’s ex.

As I tried hard to pick my jaw off the floor, and resist an urge to shake a fist at the universe (which, I was absolutely convinced, was playing a cosmic joke on me), I made conversation with the boyfriend, steathily confirming what I suspected by throwing some leading questions.

Believe me, I tried very hard to hold back an urge to sing “It’s a small world after all“. That wouldn’t go down too well with folks I had just met.

Dana didn’t know it yet, but we were linked on the lesbian chain at the same time at one point. We had never met or spoken before, but I knew the drama that went on, the chain of hearts.

After an emergency conference with N over the phone, where I paced the outside of the restaurant frantically and wondered why God hated me (it can’t just be because I am gay), I came clean. Believe me, it was not easy – finding an opening to mention the subject was worse than trying to come out for the first time.

But once I did, an ancient bonding ritual was initiated between me and Dana* –  the absolutely female and sacrosanct rite known as Bitching, which no man, gay or straight, will ever get the way we women, especially queer women, do. The rules of this ancient ritual are complex and old as time – but the first rule of bitching is always to make sure the other person hates the subject of the bitch-fest as much as you do.

The second rule is to hold nothing back.

At the end of the evening, we exchanged numbers and promised to keep in touch. Well you know what they say: the enemy of my enemy is my friend. So now I am friends with the person my ex much hates, and the ex of the person I much hate.

And I thought my world could not get much weirder.

Before you ask, yes, I am genuinely hoping I never have to write Ex-story Part III. Not anytime soon anyway.

*Names have been changed to protect privacy.


October 25, 2008 - Posted by | Relationships

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