I'm engaged! It's only been a few weeks since he popped the question. It's pretty exciting stuff, and I'm happy.
We're beginning the wedding planning process which, judging from my few engaged friends who are frantically wedding planning, does not sound like a walk in the park. I acknowledge though that it is probably a rite of passage for those of us who don't want a city hall or Vegas wedding. (Though every bride has told me that at some point during the wedding planning process, she is tempted to elope. Eek.)
So things are, all in all, very very good.
One day last week, however, I get an email from my ex. The same ex whom I haven't spoken to since my last post about his snideness towards me. I told myself I'd never talk to him again because he contributes absolutely nothing positive to my life.
Well, he emailed me, basically asking me what was up and updating me on what was going on with him. For some reason, his email struck me as being pitiable. I kind of felt sorry for him. Like, the guy had to be pretty lonely to be contacting me out of the blue after about a year. And I don't flatter myself, I don't mean in a romantic-longing kind of way. For all I knew, he could still be dating the same girl he was dating when I last spoke with him.
It just struck me as being inexplicably sad.
So, should I respond? Should I ignore? Shouldn't I at least tell him I'm engaged? I thought I should.
So it was a matter of email or phone call. The Naysayer harped on me to call instead of emailing. Yes, it is tacky to tell someone you're engaged via email. But that rule applies to a friend or relative. This Ex is a scornful human being. Did he deserve the same courtesy that a normal decent human being deserved? Particularly if I told myself I'd never talk to him again?
Well, as the Naysayer pointed out, he was at one point a huge part of my life and a potential husband-to-be.
FINE, I decided to call him. And, yes, I got his voicemail. I left the most awkward voicemail ever.
"Hi. This is Yellow. -- um, Yellow Gal. I got your email and I'm returning it. With a phone call, I guess. Um. Yea, I have something I want to tell you. I'm at 555-555-5555. Talk to you soon. Thanks."
Dumb.
He called me back, and finally, I caught him on the phone.
"Well is it good news or bad news?" he said.
"Um, it's good news," I responded. I was inexplicably nervous. "I'm engaged."
"Ah, that's what I guessed," I could hear him fake-smile on the phone. "Congratulations."
"Thanks."
"Is it because you're pregnant?"
"What?"
"You're pregnant, right? That's why you're getting married?"
"Um," I said, trying not to let him get to me, "judging by the fact that we're aiming for a spring 2011 wedding, no, it's not because I'm pregnant."
"Are you sure?" he said. I couldn't tell if he was stifling a derisive laugh or just being incredibly self-deprecating. "It couldn't be...for love?" Then he chuckled awkwardly.
Folks, this man is 38 years old. Thirty-eight years old. He has practiced law for 13 years in a large law firm. And he has the emotional maturity of a 12-year old.
Another gem from our conversation was his question, "How much is the ring?" And, oh yeah, he asked me if I was pregnant another ten or eleven times.
And by the way, he is still dating the same he was dating from last year. So why the snide comments?
Anyway, while the phone call was unpleasant and irritating, I'm ultimately glad I did it. I know now, more than ever, that: (1) I dodged a bullet when I broke up with him, and (2) I am so incredibly lucky and fortunate to be with an awesome guy like my fiancé.
