I saw my ex- this week to talk about starting the divorce. It is strangely pleasant to see him, and to feel whatever I feel for him (a sort of nostalgia mixed with affection).
He told me about a hike he did. He went to a hotel before, in order to get an early start (it was too far to drive from his house and start walking the same day). He picked up a glass at the breakfast buffet and there was a glass stuck under his. It fell off and smashed, sending shards of glass into everything, the muesli, the fruit salad, the bread bin. The staff had to take it all away. It was both terrible and (after the fact) really, really funny. If I’d been there, we would have slunk away in shame and then laughed from embarrassment until we turned blue.
When he told me about this, I realized that he longer has me to laugh with. I would have been there, laughing with him. I’m sure he told his friends, and they’d laugh after the fact. But no one was there with him.
I would so much like him to find someone else to share things with.