When I was younger, I had this thing about being friends with my exes, I had no desire to do so and the concept was laughable, and usually met with contempt.
I’m trying a new thing where I act my age and I’ve accepted the possibility of friendship with two very specific ex-paramours – David, he was an on-again, off-again high school fling that transitioned into a fallback guy in university, and Brandon, my primary university boyfriends who put up with a lot of bullshit from me and can still be counted on to be by my side in a heartbeat if asked.
Obviously, this whole reconnecting thing should probably also occur on some sort of adult timetable and not, at 5AM because you suddenly (read: drunkenly) decide that you need to spill your guts to him (sorry, B) about your latest romantic failure and your emotional epiphany.
Thankfully he didn’t pick up the phone, but he did manage to return my call at the ungodly hour of 9:31AM (at which point I had only had about 3 hours of fitful sleep at best).
No matter how old I am, I don’t think I’ll ever outgrow my predisposition to drunk dialing. You’ve been forewarned.