In which I convince Primo that talking about his nephew and about his sister and their educational challenges would actually help him

Primo's big issue for this campaign - the thing that motivated him to run - is public education. There is stuff going on here and I suspect everywhere in the US about schools.

I grew up on military bases, attending, for the most part, the Department of Defense schools, which are among the best schools in the - hmm - I can't say US, because many of the schools are outside of the US - the best schools for American students in the world. Test scores for DoD schools are always pretty high. Education just isn't an issue on military bases and for military dependents.

Primo also went to good schools, but not because he went to DoD schools. He went to good schools because his parents knew how to use the system to their advantage.

I have no problem with their doing that. They bought a house in a neighborhood in a better school district and when that wasn't enough, sued the district to get Primo in special classes. (Primo graduated from high school when he was 15.)

Again - I have no problem with parents advocating for their children.

I do have a problem with people who don't think that parents who can't afford to buy a house in a good district or don't know how to sue shouldn't have options.

Just because you are stuck living in a crummy school district, you shouldn't have no choices.

Although Primo and I agree that children have the right to a good education, we disagree on some of the mechanics of all this. Primo thinks we should improve the public schools, which of course we should, but I maintain that in the meantime, the true function of public education is that every child be educated, period.

But I don't want to get into all that.

So his big issue is education and who gets to go to good schools and who doesn't.

Primo wants to talk about the Big Ideas and the Theories and the To-Be state.

We were talking about Ted'sSon, who is mentally disabled and has required special education that has come about because Ted and his wife sued the district.

"The district was not equipped to handle Ted'sSon," Primo says. "That's not right."

"Nope," I said. "Why don't you mention that when you are talking to people?"

"Because it's too personal!" he said. "I can't talk about that kind of thing!"

"Of course you can," I answered.

"Nobody wants to hear that kind of thing," he said.

"Yes, they do!" I said. "What nobody wants to hear about is dry policy. Nobody wants to hear about abstract theory. They don't care about your Big Ideas. They want to know that you care about their kids and what happens to them. They want to know why you would even care about education - we don't have kids, so you can't talk about that. People need to know that you understand their struggles and want to help them. They don't care that you care about this stuff in the abstract."

He thought for a minute. Shook his head.

"Trust me. I am in marketing. This is what I do all day at work - try to figure out how to get people to accept change and new ideas. If you can't connect personally to someone, you are not going to get anything done."

He frowned slightly.

I continued. "Without thinking of any of the other things about them, think about how it felt when you met Bill Clinton and then met Obama right after him. Bill looked you in the eye and paid attention to you. He made you feel like you mattered, even though we all know that's just his thing."

"Obama was looking over your shoulder for someone more important."

"People want to feel like they matter. And if you share something personal about yourself that relates to the struggles they face, that is way more important that explaining a policy to them."

He nodded. He smiled. He got it. He got it.

"You're good at this!" he said.

"I know," I said.

In which Primo gets signatures and I do nothing over Memorial Day weekend and it is grand

We did run into an acquaintance of Primo's who is currently a legislator. I had a conversation with him that left me really surprised.

As in, legislators all think they are smart. Really smart.

I know.

I KNOW!

I think the rest of the civilized world looks at politicians and thinks, "You would not last two seconds in the private sector" and is sure that after each election a politician wins, he throws himself to the ground to thank God because if he were not in elected office, he would starve to death because WHO WOULD EVER HIRE HIM? but apparently, legislators think quite highly of themselves.

The conversation went something like this, although this is a highly-distilled version:

Me: I am a big fan of the citizen-legislator.

Primo's acquaintance - let's call him Bob - Bob went straight from college to law school and then from law school to running for and winning public office: Well....

Me: Otherwise, you get people who have never worked in the private sector and who think taxing soda at a different rate than other items in the grocery store is a great idea.

Bob: What do you mean?

Me: Because anyone who has ever been involved with a computer system would say, "But if we tax different foods at different rates, then the systems have to be completely re-written, which is very expensive and time consuming."

Bob: I suppose I can see what you mean.

Me: Plus when you have someone who has worked in the private sector, you have someone who has an understanding of the fact that just because your expenses go up, you can't necessarily raise your prices.

Bob: Hmmmm. But what about James Madison? And some of the other founding fathers? They were pure politicians. They made a career of politics.

Me: Well, you may have a point there.

[But I was really thinking, "Really? REALLY? You are comparing yourself to James Madison? I. Don't. Think. So. And then I looked Madison up when I came home and discovered that sure, he might have started in politics very young, but he ran a huge plantation, which requires some decent private-sector skills. And Madison really was smart. That is not a quality I discern in most politicians these days.]

Bob: But yeah - one of the problems is that all the people at the capitol think they are experts on everything.

Me: What?

Bob: Yeah - they think they really know what they are talking about.

Me: WHAT?

Bob: So it can be hard to convince them of anything.

Me: I. See.

[And that's when I had the realization that they all think they are smart. They compare themselves to James Madison. They think they are experts. Lord. Have. Mercy.]

Bob: How's Primo's campaign going?

Me: I try to stay out of it.

Bob: What?

Me: It's his thing, not mine.

Bob: But... but...

Me: I did doors with him on the first campaign. I recruited and managed his volunteers. I put together yard signs. I wrote thank you notes. I entered data into the party database. I am done.

Bob: But why?

Me: It's not my thing.

Bob: On our first date, I took my girlfriend to do doors.

Me: And?

Bob: She's still my girlfriend.

Me: Yeah. Primo was not a politician when I married him.

Bob: But you don't want to campaign with him?

Me: No.

[What I should have said was, "Do you go to work with your girlfriend? Why not?"]

In which Primo and I talk about whether you ask friends who do not live in your district for money and we decide no, even if the friend has said that of course he would donate to the campaign he has given to candidates he likes a lot less than Primo

Because we are so lucky to have so many wonderfully generous friends, a lot of the costs of Primo's first campaign four years ago were covered. It made Primo sick to his stomach to ask friends for money - people, this is the absolute worst part of running for office, worse even than hiding your affairs and your sexts and whatever.

I joke. Primo is not having an affair. He can have an affair instead of running for office - indeed, I have suggested to him that he might consider that approach - but he cannot have an affair AND run for office.

You have to choose.

Anyhow. Asking people for money is really hard and that's why rich people run this country, not so much because they pay for their own campaigns, although that's part of it, but because they have a lot of friends who are as rich as they are and will give them money.

For his campaign for Congress two years ago, he asked nobody for money. He was a candidate as a favor to the party. There was no chance for him to win. He was not going to waste any goodwill begging for that one.

Now we are here, at a campaign for the state house that he actually could maybe win in this bizarre election year with its two "Which one do I detest less?" candidates and everything is up for grabs.

We saw these friends - let's call them Prakash and Kavitha - a month ago. They are college friends - Primo and Prakash were in the same dorm and have known each other since college; I met Prakash at our reunion last fall and found him delightful and found his wife (with whom he had an arranged marriage, which is not such a bad idea when you think about how important having similar values and backgrounds is for a successful marriage - it has clearly worked for them) to be absolutely charming.

Primo had called Prakash for his first campaign and Prakash wrote a check immediately. We were stunned by his generosity - he lives nowhere near us and would not be affected by Primo's winning.

Then for the Congressional campaign, Primo didn't ask anyone.

When we saw Prakash and Kavitha last month, Primo had not decided to run. He was actually leaning toward not running, which, as you know, made me very happy.

We talked about the first campaign and thanked P&K again for their contribution, which was when Prakash said that he has given money to candidates he liked far less than Primo and Primo should of course ask him.

FF to now. Primo has decided to run again. I am not thrilled, but I keep repeating to myself the refrain that soothes me:

I would rather have an unemployed Primo than an employed Primo + Sly + Doris.

Primo: Should I ask Prakash for a campaign contribution?

Me: NO!

Primo: But he said...

Me: I know. But - they're our friends.

Primo: I know.

Me: It just doesn't seem right.

Primo: I know. You're right. It's just that he said - but it seems so wrong to ask our friends for money.

Me: He sees what you post on facebook. You have a contribution link. If he wants to, he can.

Primo: Yeah. But it would be crass to ask him. OK.

I don't think we are in the right business.

In which it is the Friday of Memorial Day Weekend and when I tell Primo I am bored, he asks if I want to collect signatures for his nominating petition, and I laugh because there is no boredom boring enough to make me want to go door to door with a clipboard talking about politics with strangers

Instead, I will just stay home and be bored.

And cook.

1. I already tried making calzones today. I am/was working from home and made the filling and the dough last night. Here is what I have learned:

• I love the Enchanted Broccoli Forest vibe, but pesto+ricotta is boring
• Calzones need hot, salty fat, i.e., pepperoni
• Calzones also need not to be overstuffed. Can you tell in which order I made these? Yes - top right to top left. 

2. I have leftover pesto+ricotta. (I have been trying to use inventory in the freezer and I have a ton of pesto from the Great Basil Harvest of 2014.) I also have a friend who is going through chemo. He and his wife were in the Peace Corps with me and live in the capital city. Primo has to drop off his nominating signatures by June 1, so is planning to drive there next week. I will make a new batch of better-looking calzones and send them with him for Joe and Joyce. Primo is going to look in the freezer for some sausage to add to the filling.

3. I am also going to bake some orange-poppyseed bread from my mom's recipe to send with him.

4. And I am going to make a pie from the last bit of pears from our tree. I have become a champion pear pie maker. I use the apple pie recipe from Bon Appetit. And lard. I use lard in my crust. I will not send the entire pie to Joe and Joyce, though. They get the entire poppyseed bread and a few slices of pie.

5. In addition to cooking and being bored, I am going to work out in the basement and I am going to read.

6. And sleep. Late.

7. I am not going to collect signatures.

8. (Primo already has over 200, so he is probably safe.)

In which Keith's former tenant threatens to go to small claims court

She emailed him last night:

Keith this is a courtesy email, just wondering what happen, it's the 26th of May,2016. And your 21 days have expired. I didn't receive anything from you... 
If I don't hear anything from you by May 31st, 2016. My only option is to go to Small Claims Court. 

(Tenant)  

He mailed her a letter and a check for $500 last week. Sent it registered mail. She is not getting any of her security deposit back, but is getting her pet deposit back.

If she doesn't have it by now, either the post office messed up (highly unlikely - our post office is really good in this country), or she gave Keith a bad address.

In which I discover that one of the advantages of Primo being gone all evening collecting nominating signatures is that I can work in peace getting rid of old stuff like some of the food we moved from Primo's apartment to the house eight years ago

This stuff was already old when we moved. I don't think we are in danger of starvation, so it is safe to toss ten-year-old pickled eggplant.

In which the dilemma about Primo going to his aunt's funeral may be resolved

Primo: My aunt is going to die.

Me: We are all going to die.

Primo: I mean soon. She is in hospice. I just spoke to my cousin.

Me: That is sad.

Primo: She got the DVD I sent* and was able to watch it.

Me: Good.

Primo: But I told my cousin that I am running for office. I think that will set the stage for my not being able to attend the funeral.

Me: I think that's fine.





* With the photos Primo displayed at Doris' funeral. There were many of Doris as a young woman before Sly got to her - she was drop-dead gorgeous and she looked happy.

In which the devil must be looking for his sweater because Primo is asking our back yard neighbor, a retired maintenance guy who had refused to sign Primo's nominating petition a few years ago but signed yesterday for this campaign, for help with the lawnmower

Primo: The lawnmower isn't working properly!

Me: Not my problem. I'm working.

Primo: But it's not working.

Me: Shhhh! Leave me alone!

Ten minutes later

Primo: Guess what? Bill was outside so I asked him what he thought. It was just last year that he repaired it for us, right?

Me: I think so. He was so nice.*

Primo: So I told him I would take it over once I was done cutting the lawn.**

Me: OK.

Primo: But then he said that he thought it might just need a new air filter. He happened to have one and gave it to me.

Me: Good!

Primo: It didn't work. While I was replacing the filter, he was googling. He came back out and said it looks like it just might need a carburetor adjustment. I said I would take the mower over there and he said he would come over here!

Me: He is so nice.

And then Bill came over, repaired the problem, played with our cat, and left.

Who was that masked man? I wanted to thank him.


* Bill asked me last year if we would let him repair the mower because it was too noisy and it was driving him crazy. When we bought our house, we closed five weeks before we could move in. Bill came over and cut our grass and moved all the trash cans the previous owner had left on the curb to the garage.

** Which is not the worst thing in the world when someone is willing to repair your gas-powered devices for free, but he is our exact backyard neighbor. We live in the middle of the block. And there is a big fence between us. It is the maximum walking possible.

In which Primo lets himself be pulled into a long conversation with a very kind and sincere but long-winded neighbor

Primo [on phone]: [ring ring]

Me: I know you're not calling me because you messaged that you would be home at six so we could get to the play on time and it is now 6:11.

Primo: Something bad happened!

Me: What?!

Primo: It was 5:52 and I was walking past Roberto's house and I thought, "I have the perfect excuse to get the signature and get out!"

Me: Oh no! You didn't stop!

Primo: But I did - and he STILL kept me! He can talk!

Me: Like what? About what?

Primo: He asked, "Who's your campaign manager? You have to pick one! You need to run it by me!"

Me: Oh gosh.

Primo: He said, "We need to come up with a strategy to win this district!"

Me: Yeah. He talked about that last time. That's all he wanted to talk about last time. We needed someone to deliver yard signs but he wanted to re-do the strategy one week before the election.

Primo: Then he asked, "Do you know people to talk to about campaign managers?" I told him he had met B at that campaign event at our house and he said, "I met B and you need someone with more skills than that!"

Me: We are not hiring a campaign manager! What we need is someone to collect nominating signatures.

Primo: I think I could get him to do that, but I would have to spend an afternoon listening to him. He is a really nice guy---

Me: But he is not focused!

Primo: I told him we are not hiring a campaign manager this time - that we hired one last time and it was a disaster, plus we don't have the money this time because I am not working. And I promised you that we would not spend money.

Me: Good.

Primo: I thought if I told him you and I were going to the theatre that he would just sign, but he said, "Come in! Come in! Let's talk!"

Me: You didn't go into the house, did you? Because that would not have been a good idea for getting out of there quickly.

Primo: Yes. I did.

Me: Ouch. Big mistake.

Primo: I know. He's so excited about the theory.

Me: But right now, you just need someone to circulate nominating petitions. Bless his heart.

Primo: I know. Bless his heart.

In which Primo sees that one of the names on his walk list is that of the guy who wanted to discuss campaign strategy but had no interest in helping with practical issues

Primo: Oh! Guess who's name is on my list?

Me: Who?

Primo: Roberto!

Me: Oh no! Do not stop there. Just skip his house!

[When Primo ran the first time, Roberto was really excited about the campaign and wanted to talk about strategy and wanted to completely revise Primo's strategy but didn't want a yard sign in his yard because he said he was worried about retribution from his neighbors, even though almost everyone where we live votes Primo's and Roberto's way. I would ask him to help with the practical things, like assembling and delivering yard signs, but he did not want to do that. Maybe because it is boring - it IS boring. I don't want to do it. But on a campaign, you don't get to do just the fun stuff and leave the crap for other people.]

Primo: I know he'll sign.

Me: You need 300 signatures. Do you have to get his?

Primo: If I could just get the signature....

Me: He is the nicest guy, but he wants to talk about all the theory about campaigning and doesn't want to do any of the legwork!

In which both Primo and I forget that it is the one-year anniversary of Doris' death and we wonder if we should feel guilty about that

Primo: I'm not doing it right!

Me: What? [worried that something has gone horribly wrong in collecting signatures for his nominating petition and he will try to involve me in a conversation about politics when all I want to do is bake some cakes for our neighbors, who include 1. new people, 2. people who just had a baby, and 3. a couple who is getting married. Any excuse is good for cake. But I need it to be cake with vegetable oil instead of butter because we are almost out of butter and Primo has not had a chance to get to Aldi.]

Primo: Do you think death anniversaries are important?

Me: Nope. But your mom sure did.

Primo: Yeah. She would get really upset if I didn't call her on Nancy's death anniversary AND on Nancy's birthday. [Doris got upset about everything.]

Me: It's not something I care about.

Primo: It was one year ago today that my mom died.

Me: Oh!

Primo: I hadn't even thought about it.

Me: Me neither.

Primo: Niece #2 sent me a text.

Me: Was it a text giving condolences or asking for them?

Primo: Giving. She wrote, "Thinking of you today, Uncle Primo. xoxoxox."

Me: That is really sweet and thoughtful.

Primo: Am I supposed to be sending something out?

Me: No. You had the closest degree of relationship with your mom. They contact you if they want. But you don't contact them.

Primo: Good.

Me: But it was awfully nice of her. She's a sweet kid.

Primo: Yes.

In which Primo suggests once again that I rename this blog "The Candidate's Wife" and I suggest that he be celibate until after the election

OK. That's not exactly what happened. I left out a few steps between the "HEY! I'm going to run for office again!" announcement and the "You can sleep alone" part.

1. There is a UTI involved. So I am not interested. That's the real reason for the Lysistrata move.
2. I told him that I have not spent my life yearning to define myself in relation to a man.

And.

Although I am not happy** that Primo is running again,

1. I remind myself that an unemployed husband who is running for state-level office whose parents are no longer a factor in our lives is a gajillion times better than an employed husband not running for office whose parents make him miserable.
2. All the work he has done to help other candidates and politicians might actually be coming back to roost. The guy whose spot he ran to fill four years ago who got all pissy with Primo actually wrote Primo a check yesterday when Primo was out collecting nominating signatures and told Primo he would gather signatures for him.*
3. Someone from the party called him last night and told him that they are putting a staffer at Primo's disposal and will give him the voter lists. As in, unlike last time, where they were happy to charge Primo for all this stuff because who doesn't like to make money from someone who is DOING YOU A FAVOR BY RUNNING, it looks like the party might actually be supporting him.
4. SLY AND DORIS ARE NOT A FACTOR IN OUR LIVES! (MUCH!) ANYTHING IS BETTER! I CAN DEAL WITH ANYTHING! EVEN PRIMO RUNNING FOR OFFICE AGAIN!




* For non-US readers who are not intimately familiar with our system - for a candidate to get on the ballot, he has to collect a certain number of signatures (the number depends on which office he is seeking) from eligible voters in the district. This involves spending the entire weekend and all evenings during the week walking from door to door asking people to sign the petition. Some people sign; some do not. There are a very few people who can be nasty, which I don't get - if you don't like the guy, don't vote for him. But - people are very angry in this country right now - there is a huge amount of frustration with politics and politicians and someone who actually comes to your door and says he is a candidate? He is an easy target.

For the office Primo is seeking, he needs 200 valid signatures, which means getting a lot more, just in case some are disqualified.



** Primo just looked over my shoulder and said, "Uh oh! I see you wrote, 'I am not happy!'"

In which we go out to celebrate Primo's birthday and I wonder if people who regularly stay out late know how crappy they feel but I can do it once a year for Primo

It was Primo's birthday yesterday. I made him a cake - chocolate with chocolate frosting.

Primo doesn't think it's dessert if it's not chocolate.

I - and I never thought I would ever say this - get a little tired of chocolate and sometimes want something different.

However, this overweening desire for chocolate chez nous is mostly good, as it means Primo doesn't buy ice cream in non-chocolate flavors. If he would buy salted caramel ice cream or rum raisin, I would eat a lot of it and Primo would eat none of it and I would have to own what I eat, which I hate doing, as I have been on a diet my entire life.

Enough about dieting - I try not to talk about that stuff because it is boring to other people. But after a few days with my mom, it's on my mind. She is 73 years old and still talks about dieting and losing weight and it makes me sad. First, she is not at an unhealthy weight. She is very healthy and she looks like what she is - a 73 year old woman who is not starving to death - and there is nothing wrong with that. I hope - and I am trying - that when I am her age and even before that the main focus of my life is not what I weigh.

I made a chocolate cake for Primo and I bought him some taro chips from the Hawaiian place. I didn't get him a card because there were no new cards with kittens and if the card doesn't have a kitten on it, there's no point, plus Primo and I both agree that four dollars is a little much to pay for a greeting card and we would rather use the money on cinnamon rolls from the good bakery by our house.

But what Primo really wanted was for me to go out with him.

You guys, I hate going out.

I. Hate. It.

I am an introvert. I don't like being in crowds. I don't like being in noisy crowds.

Also.

I do not like to stay up late. I treasure my sleep. I never get enough of it. Primo is always asking me to wait to go to bed with him - he's a night owl - and I tell him I will stay up for him if he will get up, get out of bed, and stay up at 6 a.m. when I have to get up for work.

That usually shuts down the conversation.

Also.

I do not drink. Not for moral or health reasons but just because I do not like the way alcohol tastes. If I am going to imbibe recreational calories, I would rather have butter.

But I went out with him because it was his birthday and he wanted to.

We went to Bar 1 to see his friend's band playing. But it was really loud and nobody else he knew was there. At 10:30, Primo suggested we leave and I got all happy and excited because I thought we were going home.

We were not.

We were going to Bar 2.

"I promised we would be home by around midnight, right?" he asked, which was indeed the case but I had gotten my hopes up about being home by 11.

We got to Bar 2 and it was also loud, but this was karaoke and not a band and I really like the guy who runs the karaoke show - he is the one who helped me set up Primo's Christmas present years ago - an afternoon in a recording studio making a CD. Jon has a friend who has a recording studio in his basement and Jon, Primo, and the guy made a CD! It sounds great and I made this fun CD cover, which you can see above.

Primo asked me what he should sing and I told him "Suspicious Minds," because he does that really well, but he sang, after telling everyone in the bar, "This is my wife! I really do have one! She came out with me because it's my birthday!", "Can't Help Falling in Love With You," which was nice because he was singing about how much he loves me in a public place, but was a little weird because I don't really like that song and what are you supposed to do while your husband is singing about how much he loves you and you don't even have a beer in your hands?

So that was strange but still nice and I am not sure how to handle that kind of thing because I prefer to be controlling events when I am in the spotlight.

Then we went home and it took me days to catch up on my sleep. Maybe next year I can just buy him some kind of cat thing instead of going out with him.

In which Ted sends an email to Primo wishing him happy birthday and thanking him for sending some money and I roll my eyes because I KNOW IT'S ALL PART OF THE PLAN

It's Primo's birthday.

I have known Primo for over ten years.

Each year, we have celebrated his birthday.

Each year since my mother has met Primo, she has sent him a card. Once we married, she started sending him $100, which I have asked her not to do as I want her to spend her money on herself, not on Primo and me. But my mom maintains that I am not the boss of her and if she wants to send Primo a birthday check, she can I cannot stop her. So we accept it and go out for a nice dinner and tell her what we had and everything is lovely.

I can't remember what Sly and Doris did for Primo's birthday. Oh! Yes I can! Remember the year of Doris adopting endangered species on Primo's behalf!

I re-read the comments and the consensus was that at least the money went to charity, WHICH I DO NOT CARE ABOUT - I CHOOSE MY OWN CHARITABLE CONTRIBUTIONS - but the better point was, "It's not like they are ever going to send you guys what you want anyhow and this doesn't have to be dusted."

So. You guys are right and I was wrong.

My sister and my brother always send Primo a facebook message on his birthday. Stephanie sends him a note. Primo's two stepdaughters send him a note.

This is what has been going on for the past ten years.

Never, not once, I don't think, in the time that I have known Primo, has Ted ever sent Primo a happy birthday note.

Which is fine. Honestly. It's not required. It doesn't make someone a bad person if he does not acknowledge your birthday.

However.

When someone, who, in this case, is Ted, acknowledges your birthday for the first time in ten years and the email is one of a series of emails asking for money, it does give one pause, doesn't it?

In which I consider carefully the thoughtful comments you all left and decide not to say "Hey!" to the high school boyfriend who ditched me right before the prom

Because really, what's to be gained? We were never friends - we were the kissing version of f*** buddies.

[I know. I am sort of a prude. I am still halfway worried that my mom will read this blog and shake her head in disappointment.]

But Ken and I kissed and kissed and kissed and it was very very good kissing.

But we didn't talk much, probably because we didn't have much to talk about.

Which is OK when you are 14. I would rather have been kissing than talking.

We were never friends. There is no friendship to be regained.

It's unlike with Keith, my other high school boyfriend, the one with whom I didn't spend time necking. We kissed only once.

Why? you ask.

Because it turned out that Keith is gay and there is only so much faking a person can do, even when he is not quite sure of things.

We didn't kiss but we talked and we were friends and he hung out at my house and talked to my mom so when I saw him on facebook, I did not hesitate to say hi! and now we are friends and when he has come through town (he is a commercial airline pilot), we have gone out to eat and when we were in Austin, we went out to eat with him.

So - the rules for contacting old boyfriends:

1. They actually have to have been friends
2. They cannot have been jerks.
3. I cannot have been a jerk to them.

Number two rules out the guy from grad school who turned out to be a jerk. Yes, I have googlestalked him, but only because I have this morbid curiosity. I don't ever want to see him again or talk to him again. I do not want him in my life. Shudder.

However. I would be pretty happy, I think, to have my college boyfriend back in my life. I just don't think he would want me in his. I was not kind to him when we broke up. Was I a jerk to him? I don't think I was. I hope I wasn't. I don't know. How do you break up kindly with someone? I didn't want to be mean, but I didn't want to marry him after all. It was not comfortable and he called me for months afterwards, late, late at night, upset, wanting to talk because who else do you talk to about heartbreak except your best friend, which is what we were.

And then I took that from him - and from myself.

He has never come to a college reunion. He married one of my roommates but I haven't kept in touch with her, either.

I have seen him on facebook. I hope he's happy. He has kids. I have looked at his children's photos and youtube postings and wondered if we would have had kids like that. They look nice. They look sweet and happy and they clearly love their dad. I wonder what I missed with him.

I did notice that he looked at my LinkedIn profile a few weeks ago. I have to admit that made me really happy - that maybe he hasn't forgotten about me and maybe doesn't hate me. I don't want him to hate me. I just want him to have a good life.