Dating exgirlfriends friend

had recently risen to the peak of its popularity, taking with it all my expectations for romantic love. When a mutual friend of ours mentioned that Jacob was seeing someone, I pretended to be very happy for him and not at all self-conscious about the amount of time I spent on the couch with my roommates watching .

And then I locked myself in my bedroom and performed intricate Facebook forensics, clicking on friends of friends of friends to see if there were untagged photos of her that I could save to my desktop and examine to see just how much better than me she was.

I would, in these fantasies, be on my way to somewhere cool. All I had to do was live out the bizarre fantasies I'd already constructed in my head.

Somewhere out there, there is another woman who has been naked with some of the same men you've been naked with, and you know more about her than you should. I pined over my boyfriends' exes more than they did, certain there was some quality they all had that would always make them bewitching and irresistible, sirens who could call my boyfriend away from me at any moment. I didn't think, ever, that any of my exes' girlfriends were furiously Googling me, though I was courteous enough to leave them a healthy digital bread crumb trail of abandoned blogs and narcissistic Tumblr accounts filled with terrible writing and artistic photography to make it worth their while, just in case. We don't get jealous — really, truly, Google jealous — of people like Beyoncé or Gwyneth Paltrow.I was really into at the time, so I approached my new side project with professionalism and enthusiasm.I stopped just short of having her phone tapped and bringing in a team to enhance all her photos to look for new clues about her. By the time I ran into Jacob at a Brooklyn bar between our apartments, I had to pretend to be surprised when he told me he was dating someone, even though I already knew that her name was Karen and that her parents were divorced and that she had gone to a much better college but had the same Hunter boots and H&M dresses I did.Instead, I was brutally hungover from the night before.It had been a typical Friday evening spent at a neighborhood bar with my roommate Lauren, lamenting how gross it was when guys who were over 30 would try to talk to us when we were clearly just there to play skee ball and pound beers while sharing a Parliament Light.

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