by Monroe, Max
But I was determined to find closure with those ghosts, just like I’d found with Josh McClain.
And if that meant I’d lock myself in my hotel room until their letters were written, then so be it.
The things we do for love?
More like the things we do to get over love.
[laughs softly]
All aboard, friends.
The next stop on my closure train is Mac O’Malley.
Get ready. Another Dear Ex-Boyfriend letter is coming in hot…
* * *
Dear Ex-Boyfriends
“Life of the Party”
Before I pour my heart out via another letter to one of my ex-boyfriends, I want to thank you guys for allowing me to have this platform to share my words with you. Because of you and your overwhelming open-armed response to my first letter to J, I feel empowered. But mostly, I feel relief.
Relief that I can find closure.
Relief that I can finally let go of past regrets and mistakes and head in a direction that, maybe someday, will end in a healthy, stable relationship with a strong partner who brings out the best in me.
Relief that, thanks to the popularity of these letters, I still have a job.
I don’t know what the future holds, but I’m learning that I can control how I let the past affect me.
I, Lucky Wright, am still a jerk addict.
But I’m learning and I’m growing and I’m hopeful that I’ll start to understand the error of my ways.
And, for those of you who are on this ride with me, I hope, if anything, these heartfelt letters will inspire you to self-reflect on the good and the bad in your life.
Not just your love life, but your friendships and your relationships with your family.
I recently read a fantastic book by a wonderful author, woman, mother, entrepreneur, and all-around amazing human being named Rachel Hollis. It’s called Girl, Wash Your Face, and if you haven’t read it, you should.
I honestly think anyone who reads this book won’t be able to reach the last page without leaving their reading experience with new knowledge about themselves, with an elevated sense of self-motivation, and with a renewed outlook on life.
And inside that book was a quote that really stuck with me.
“You are the five people you spend the most time with.”
This raw truth struck a serious note within me.
Bad relationships, whether it be friendship or love or business, bleed into all aspects of your life.
Eventually, you become a reflection of the company you keep.
I found myself at the lowest points in my life when I was in the wrong relationship and dating the wrong guy.
And, as time progressed, I slowly started to lose myself, my thoughts, my wants, my needs, my desires—until all that was left was a giant wall of insecurity and doubt.
And every time I’d experience a relationship failure, it was like I had to build myself back up again.
So, before I share my next letter, I want you to think about the people you spend the most time with. I want you to visualize how they support you, how you support them. I want you to reflect on the positive things you bring to each other. I also want you to reflect on the negative things too.
None of us is perfect.
We all make mistakes and let each other down sometimes.
But at the end of the day, are those five people you’ve surrounded yourself with allowing you to live your best life? Or are they forcing you to read books without smut just so you don’t look “bad” in front of Karen?
Just…think about it.
And while you’re thinking, I’ll share with you my next letter…
Dear Life of the Party,
Our relationship spanned nearly my entire twenty-fourth year of existence.
You were larger than life, a man who had a knack for making people have a good time, and you were skilled in the art of fun.
And boy oh boy, did we have some crazy fun together.
Some of my funniest, happiest, most carefree memories include you.
You showed me what it meant to really let loose and to live in the moment.
Up until I met you, I’d had a tendency to always be looking toward the future, never sitting still, and wishing my days away until I achieved all of the goals I’d set for myself.
It’s good to set goals.
It’s good to prepare for the future.
But it’s not good to let your life pass before your eyes and never take the time to enjoy where you are, right now, in the moment.
Because of you, I learned a lot about myself.
I’ll always be thankful to you for that.
Also, I’d never really had a love for music or even understood the positive effect it could have. But thanks to you, I’m an avid listener to every genre known to humankind.
Jazz when I’m feeling moody.
Pop when I’m in the need of a little upbeat positivity.
Classical when I’m searching for calm.
Indie rock for all of those in-between moments.
And the ever effective power ballad when I’m locked in a swirl of emotions.
Remember that time we camped out for three days just to hear Arctic Monkeys play?
God, that was both the best and worst time of my life. (Pretty sure no one enjoys peeing in the woods, but somehow you made everything feel like an adventure.)
But, with you, I realized that not all that glitters is gold.
It’s good to let loose, but you should never do it to the detriment of someone else.
And when you’re having a good time, you tend to forget that anyone else exists.
I need balance.
I need someone who is strong and will be there when I’m suffering, no matter what.
I need to be someone’s priority, not just their partner in crime.
Our breakup was hard—one of the hardest I’ve ever been through—but by the time we reached that tragic point in our relationship, I was so tired and so lonely and so lost that I had to walk away in the name of self-preservation.
I hope you’re doing well.
I hope business is still booming at the bar.
But mostly, I hope that you’ve settled down a bit and found someone who you’ll make a priority.
Because intimacy is an important part of a relationship, and it doesn’t just mean sex.
It means communication. And holding each other. And falling asleep beside one another every night. It means showing affection through things like gentle touches and secret smiles and stolen kisses throughout the day.
It means really opening up your soul and letting the other person inside.
I hope, one day, I’ll find that.
Because of you, I know to look for it.
Sincerely,
Luci
[audible pause]
Luci. Yet another nickname from another ex-boyfriend.
I was really starting to gather quite the list, huh?
[soft, incredulous laugh]
Not only did I have a penchant for dating the wrong men, apparently, I had a similar relationship with obtaining nicknames…
Little fire ring any bells?
[sighs]
But Ollie wasn’t an ex-boyfriend.
Nope. He was just the one man I couldn’t seem to shake…
* * *
Episode 10: “Temptation sure is a convincing little biotch…”
By the time June 21st rolled around, I was fully aware why deadlines were the bane of my existence. And any writer, author, journalist who has told you otherwise was lying through their teeth.
[soft laugh]
Coming up with ideas is my favorite part of the job, but it’s that whole turning those ideas into readable pieces that’s a real kick in the ass.
Don’t get me wrong, I love writing. I love expressing myself through words.
But that doesn’t mean writing all those damn words came effortlessly.
Some days
, it’s like my fingers can’t type fast enough.
But other days, it feels like pouring honey from a jar.
[gentle sigh]
Ever since Vanessa had added an additional two assignments to my plate with a rubber band-tight deadline of June 25th, I’d been deep in the same routine.
Wake up at seven.
Eat breakfast.
Work.
Quick lunch break, which mostly included me eating a sandwich while I worked.
Work, work, work some more.
Eat dinner.
And somewhere around midnight, I’d pass out with my laptop still open.
A day or two of this was doable, but I was hitting the four-day mark, and the around-the-clock schedule was taking its toll.
I’d ignored phone calls and text messages, I’d declined offers from Jordy to grab dinner or drinks with him and some of the guys, and I’d all but quarantined myself in my hotel room for my writing cause.
The only fresh air I’d obtained was in the brief moments I found respite on the balcony of my hotel room.
Housekeeping probably thought I had Ebola or something.
All work and no play makes Lucky a dull girl.
I was starting to understand why Jack Torrance in The Shining went off his rocker.
[laughs]
And June 21st, well, it would be another long grind of a day…
Just before I settled in and slipped on my headphones, my phone pinged with a notification. When Ollie’s name lit up on my screen, I smiled like a fool.
Mornin’. It’s time for swim lesson number two.
That smile quickly turned to a firm line of confusion, and I typed out a message that showed it. Swim lesson number two? I don’t recall agreeing to another lesson…
In true Ollie fashion, he was quick to respond. Well, little fire, considering I’m your instructor, I think we need to let me be the judge of how many lessons you need or don’t need.
He was my instructor? When did that happen?
Demanding as always, he told me to meet him by the pool in an hour.
I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit that the mere idea of leaving my hotel room was tempting.
But that didn’t mean I should give in to the urge. I had to stay strong. I had deadlines. And I also had a strong memory of what happened during swimming lesson number one with Ollie…
It’s like eight in the morning, Ollie. I don’t tolerate demands that well at this hour. Plus, I’m on a bit of a deadline. I promised myself I’d stay locked in my hotel room until I finished.
We volleyed messages back and forth for a good ten minutes.
Me, trying to get him to understand I had deadlines coming out of my ears, and him, trying to convince me I needed a break.
But he proved to be a master of convincing words.
Okay, he’d messaged. In the name of being more accommodating to your “I need options” ways. I’ll give you options. #1: You put on your suit and meet down at the pool in one hour.
Of course, I took the bait like an amateur. And option #2?
I come up to your hotel room and carry you down here myself.
His message startled a laugh from my lungs.
The man was so damn persistent that I couldn’t deny he was making it hard to say no.
I told him his options sucked, and he simply responded with Time’s a ticking. Which will it be?
And a minute or two later, he added, Give me fifteen minutes, and I’ll be outside your room.
What could I say to that?
The gauntlet had been thrown.
Sure, I could have been an adult about the whole situation and told him I didn’t have time for his playful games.
But he’d dangled the distraction carrot in my face, and good Lord, I needed a break from that damn hotel room.
I needed fresh air. I needed sun.
I needed to experience another swim lesson with Ollie.
In that moment, I convinced myself I’d agreed because of the whole air and the sun thing, but I’m pretty sure you guys know better by this point…
[sighs]
An hour later, I was dressed in my bathing suit, coated with three layers of sunscreen, and walking out onto the terrace by the pool.
The South African sun was already at full force, damn near blazing, and I had to squint to take the intensity off my retinas as I pulled my sunglasses down from the top of my head and secured them over my eyes.
[laughs]
I felt like a vampire who’d been inside her coffin for the past fifty-five years. Surely, my pale complexion looked the part…
“Well, look who it is!” Ollie called from the pool. He stood in the shallow end, his elbows resting on the edge, while everything from his waist down stayed submerged in the crystal-clear water. “Ready for a bit of fun?”
“No.” I shook my head and plopped down in the nearest beach chair.
A raspy laugh left his full lips. “Seems all that work has made you grumpy.”
“More like your insistence to pull me away from the work has made me grumpy.”
“I don’t believe that for one minute,” he retorted. “You needed a break. And lucky for Lucky, I was persistent enough to make you take one.”
“Is that what you call it? Persistence?” I questioned and lowered my sunglasses to my nose for a brief second to scrutinize his face.
“What do you call it?”
“Annoyance.”
He grinned. “Pretty sure I’ve heard every variation of that word fall from your pretty little lips at least one hundred times. You’re becoming a bit of a broken record, little fire.”
He’d called me a broken record, but all my brain could focus on was his description of my mouth.
Pretty little lips?
Did he think I had a pretty mouth?
Did he want to kiss my mouth?
[annoyed groan]
I hate to say this, but Ollie was right. I was a broken record. And my recurrent song seemed to include thoughts of kissing him…
But I refused to let my brain wander down that path, and instead, I stood up from my beach chair and shrugged off my little cover-up dress. “All right, Mr. Instructor,” I said and turned to face him with two hands on my hips. “Let’s get this hour over with so I can get back to work.”
He smirked at that, and instead of gesturing me toward the water, he braced his hands on the concrete and pushed himself out.
As he strolled toward me, I watched the way the muscles of his body glimmered beneath the droplets of water rolling down his skin. And when my eyes caught sight of one particular drop, I followed its path as it traveled from his shoulder to his chest to his tight abdomen until it went down, down, down and got lost beneath the subtle trail of blondish, brown hair that rested just below his belly button.
[sighs]
It was a glorious sight.
One I shouldn’t have been enjoying as much as I had, but glorious nonetheless.
“You ready?” he asked, and I just blinked like a moron. It wasn’t until I lifted my gaze to meet his eyes that I realized the question he’d asked.
“Huh?” I asked. “Ready for what?”
“To head to the beach.”
“The beach?” I questioned. “Why are we going to the beach?”
“Because that’s where your next swim lesson is.”
“Wait, w-what?” I shook my head. “I’m not getting in the ocean. Are you crazy?”
Ollie just grinned. “No need to panic,” he said, and amusement filled his brown eyes. “I’m not just tossing you in with the sharks.”
“What?” My eyes turned as big as saucers. “There’re sharks?”
“Jesus, woman.” A wolflike laugh spilled from his lungs. “It’s a bloody saying. There are no sharks. So take a breath before you spontaneously combust.”
I glared at him. “That was a horrible metaphor for the situation.”
“Yeah, I’m realizing that now.” He chuckled again and ran a hand
through his wet hair, smoothing it out of his face. “All right, little fire, get excited because we’re going on a bit of an adventure, away from the gnarly waves toward much calmer waters,” he said and picked up a life vest from his beach chair. “And you’re going to wear this.”
I scrunched up my nose. “A life vest?”
“Yes.”
“But—”
He shook his head. “There are no buts to this request. You have to wear a life vest. Not only for your safety, but for my sanity too. I refuse to take any risks with you out there.”
His words lacked their normal jovial, teasing tone, and I had no desire to question or argue. Instead, I simply followed his instructions and took the life vest from his hands.
Once I was securely strapped in, I asked, “Better?”
“Much better.”
He grabbed our stuff from the beach chairs and led us across the terrace until we reached the gate that guided a path toward the ocean and sand.
“Now, will you give me a little insight into this adventure thing you’ve got planned?”
He grinned at me over his shoulder. “Kayaking.”
“Seriously?” I asked, and just as we cleared the trail and made our way to the wide-open coast, I knew he wasn’t bullshitting me.
There, just a few feet from where we stopped, sat an orange and pink kayak with two black oars.
Instead of answering my question, he set our towels on the beach and grabbed ahold of the kayak. “Let’s go, little fire.”
[laughs]
Yeah. Kayaking, you guys.
He wanted to take the girl who barely knew how to tread water fucking kayaking.
Go ahead and laugh at the absurdity of it. Lord knows, I am.