dinner with ex.

He was only ten minutes late. When he arrived, I didn't bother getting up. We had casual conversation for over an hour, and I think I only insulted him once -- when I mentioned my parents' computer and how their spellcheck mysteriously stopped working after he upgraded their OS.

But now that I think about it, I suppose the ring was an insult. And the way I tend to cover it up since I was accused of wagging it. And the casual use of the third-person we.

Last year he was sick on Valentine's Day, and later, he dumped me on my birthday.

I'm so happy these days, and yet when I got back in the car there were a couple of tears on my face. I'm a different person than I was a year ago. I'm stronger, I'm saner, I'm smarter, and I have shorter hair. But I'm not sure he noticed any of that.

That may be the last time I see him, and I do feel some sadness for the two years that will go mostly unreferenced for the rest of our lives, but that's the risk you take when you enter into a relationship. Mostly I am indifferent. Lately I feel at once both over- and underwhelmed, preparing for the chaos of the next six weeks with more sleep at night and deeper breaths.