I have a lot of exes. Well, we all do. Ex-friends. Ex-girlfriends. Ex-people we hooked up with a for a bit but it didn't get to the point of significant others. And I think that it's unusual that I'm still friends with the majority of mine.

I got an email from Jenny a couple of days ago reminding me that it was 11 years ago about now that we met, in a McDonalds in Munich at Oktoberfest. It should never have happened. First off, McDonalds in Munich? There's so much other incredible food, but I was with a couple of Americans, Leif and Clinton, and they wanted McDonalds. Clinton was lamenting the fact he can never meet women, and Leif and I were consoling him (and I was lamenting too, only to myself). Somehow Leif starts talking to this girl, Jenny, who is there on her own and is walking in the same direction that we are. He starts talking to her and introducing her to Clinton, and we're all talking until it turns out that even though the three of us are drunk off our tits, I have the better German and Jenny and I hit it off. We exchange contact information (all the while Clinton is cussing me out), and I visit in two weeks time and Jenny and I are officially boyfriend and girlfriend. (There's a little more to the story that involves 'accidentally missing my train' and telling her parents that there was nowhere else I could stay that night, but that's a story for another night).

One of my first exes is an ex friend called Hamish. I knew him the first year I went to school back in 198. . .hell, I don't know. A long bloody time ago. But he moved away, and when your age is still in single digits you're not fantastic at keeping in touch with people. For that matter, there's Becky Cooper who was sort of my first girlfriend. She was my first friend who was a girl, back in a time when the only differences between girls and boys was girls had longer hair and boys had cooler toys. I remember when I decided to take the scholarship to Chafyn she would barely talk to me and I would pretend that it didn't matter, and all our mutual friends were telling me it was a mistake cos it was her and I. Shit, we were six years old, but people had already picked us for each other.

Becky and Hamish, I'm not in touch with any more. Hamish, I haven't spoken to since the day his family left Salisbury-- but I still remember the cake we had for his going away. I've seen Becky a couple of times in the intervening years, the last time was in 199. . .6?, a year after I left England, when I was visiting Salisbury and she was dating a good friend of mine. Jenny, as I said, just emailed me a couple of days ago. I have exes who are pregnant, married, still stalking my dreams, and among the last people I want to talk to. There are scenarios I played out in my mind that never happened, and things they talked about with me that didn't come to pass.

So what exactly is an ex? Is it someone you once shared something with but don't any more? I shared something with Jenny that I don't any more, but we still share the same memories from experiences from our time together, and we still keep in touch. Just because they're in the past it doesn't mean those memories have ceased to be-- that's not going to happen until we're dead, or have altzheimers.

One of the best and worst relationships I ever had, with Melissa, is definitely an ex-relationship. But the memories are still there, and the realizations I made about myself and things I learned about other people are still very much relevant to my life now. She's one of the exes I'm not in touch with, and deliberately-- that's how badly I took the breakup-- and while I'm unusual in that I maintain relationships with several exes, I lose no sleep with the decision for her to remain in my memory rather than my life.

I guess my point behind this whole rambling, look-at-what-a-great-guy-I-am-cos-I-still-talk-to-exes post, is that time is what fucks us up. Yes, the exes I have, whether they be friends, lovers, partners, or work aquaintances, have all moved out of my life to a greater or lesser degree, but they still have helped form it to what it is right now. In that sense not a single one of them is an ex, because each has a presence in who you are, right now.

This was all triggered by a good night with good friends that I don't get to see often enough. And $2.50 draft and dogs at sherwood bar in the Excaliber

Ahh, the desire to write. No. The need.So it's Valentine's day, 4:15am, and I'm single. And I'm pretty sure I'm okay with that, for a couple of reasons. First, I'm too bloody busy. Second, I'm too selfish. Third, I'm too insecure. Fourth, I'm too much for a lot of people to deal with. Fifth, I can drink a fifth in a sitting, and that's bad news. Sixth, I'm only just using how to use the word 'love.' Seventh, I think I snore. Eighth, I get angry too easily. Ninth, I'm my own worst enemy.

But there's something great about waking up next to someone. Someone who doesn't mind that you both have morning breath. Someone who doesn't mind that the sign of last night's passion are still on the sheets, or your skin, or on those special occasion on the kitchen counter, the bathroom wall, and at least one window. Someone who has realized that those little quirks that you have are kinda cute.

So tonight I went out with a couple of friends. One I may or may not have the express intent of getting naked. Wait, who am I bullshitting? One I would love to get naked, and do all those things I've been learning since I was eighteen. But why this girl? I'll admit that the only time I have one person in mind is when I'm actually with someone. When I'm not, I'm generally thinking of a few people.

I digress. What is it about someone that attracts you to them? That's what I'm trying to work out. In the detritus that is my past relationships, generally I've been able to salvage some sort of raft of friendship. Okay, shitty metaphor, I know. But I've been drinking.

So, most of the women in my past are still in my present. Not naked usually, but they're still there. So what is it that makes some people date, fuck, tease people that will still be around in their circle of friends next year? How is it that some relationships end up as platonic relationships, and some end up as not wanting to talk to the misunderstanding/cheating/lying/fucked up bitch/bastard?

I have absolutely no answer to that question, but I have a few observations. Look at me, all scientific and shit. But. Right now, I would say there's a couple of women I'm interested in. At least two of the aren't actually my type, but when has that stopped anyone? Why are we attracted to people that we know, really, aren't our type? When they're into going out, being social, knowing everyone, and you're not, why do you still try? When they like to hike, bike, camp, climb, and you're a huge fan of your Roman bathtub and all those indoor amenities, why do you still think about it?

Is it the opposites attract thing? I don't go for that, cos so far in my life there's always something that's been opposite between myself and my partner. And it's usually the dealbreaker, like I'm insecure and she's not, or I want to talk more often than she does. But at the same time, there's no way I could date someone too like myself. . .you know, charming, witty, thoughtful, considerate. . .um, full of shit?

Anyway, I'm babbling. That's the vodka talking. And the tequila. And the single malt. But tonight there were lots of things I wanted to write, but I'm ending up writing this. . .

To all the women in my past, present, and future, thank you. Not some pathetic, thank you for laying me, but a thank you for sharing a part of yourselves with me. Thank you for those 3am caresses that we're both too tired to keep going, but too fascinated by each other to stop. Thank you for the way you smell, you taste, for the way your soul responds to us. For all the women I should have loved, to the women I didn't know I loved, or wouldn't admit I loved until it was too late, and all those I couldn't, wouldn't let myself love even though I should have, here's to you. Enjoy this world, this life, because you've all been a part of both my life and my world, and it's all here for you, for the taking, so enjoy it because you've already made it worthwhile for me. And whether it's me doesn't matter, that's not what life is about, but I hope someone has made it worthwhile for for you.