Friday, June 25, 2010

La Moustache Speaks

Over the past 7 months, since he took off in his Land Cruiser to travel 'round the world, my ex-boyfriend La Moustache and I have been in fairly frequent contact. However, our emails have been of the did-you-get-my-car-insurance-check, when-are-you-going-to-file-my-tax-return pragmatic variety, with the occasional p.s. I hate you (from me). Oh, and there was that one time when he offered to give me money if I would be nice to him. Last week, I felt compelled to inform him of the disappearance of Haricot, the lovebird we bought together 2 1/2 years ago, who was the apple of Moustache's eye. Shortly thereafter, his reply arrived:


Thanks for letting me know. I am so sorry and sad about it. I also imagine how
sad you must be, and that affect me even more. I am so sorry with this bad luck, in addition that I hurted you as well. You are right, best is to think that he is having good time in the forest, where all bird belongs, I imagine. He was a good friend to us, and he will stay in my heart. Life is very hard, and I am sorry I made it harder for you.

-La Moustache

Two days later he added:

I know you are pissed at me, but I would really like to know how
everything is going for you. And i can also share with my parents what happenning in your life. I know you hate me, but often I miss you.

As part of my training to become a Hospice volunteer, I watched a video recently about a young child whose parents were separated who died. Though the wife had left the family and behaved abominably, when the child passed -- and yes, the whole thing was filmed -- you could see the connection the parents shared because of their common love of their child.

I can't compare the loss of Haricot to the loss of a five-year-old child, but on some level I felt the same thing with Moustache when we lost our bird. It's been a tumultuous week, and everyone has been very understanding and empathetic; still, I can't help but feel that the one person who truly understands, because he loved Haricot as much as I did, is Moustache. My first instinct was to write back and say, "I miss you too, and I wish you were here."

Thankfully, I'm wise enough at this point to not reply to messages like this immediately. La Moustache has some sympathetic aspects to his personality, and that was a very kind condolence message he sent me. Of course he has good sides to him; otherwise I wouldn't have spent three years with him. We don't live in a fairy tale, and people aren't completely good or completely evil -- they're complicated. And in addition to being empathetic and kind at times, Moustache is also a gigantic a**hole who was utterly dishonest and left me at the worst possible moment of my life without ever being upfront about what he was doing.

After thinking about it for a couple of days, I wrote back and told him exactly what I thought: that I was completely shocked to learn that he missed me. That I had the impression that he wanted only to put as many miles between us as possible, and to burn all bridges. That any hatred I feel toward him is purely a reaction to the way he treated me. And finally, if his parents want to know how I am, they can feel free to get in touch or ask Moustache's uncle.

No response so far. Not that I'm holding my breath -- I don't think the internet connection in Ethiopia is all that great.

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