The whole concept of having an ‘ex’ is strange. The person you knew inside out (quite literally) who now, if you passed them in the street, you’d try to avoid by legging it into the closest Primark. Even it's a Saturday in December. That’s how much you don’t want to bump into them and make small-talk about their new significant other (you already know all about them thanks to Facebook) or their boring job that you didn’t care about even when you were together. If you do stop and chat, all you’re thinking is 'I’ve seen you naked. I’ve seen parts of you which you haven’t seen yourself. Remember that great shag on your parent’s kitchen counter?'
You break-up, and suddenly you’re virtually strangers, because we’ve already been through the fact that you shouldn’t be friends with your ex, remember? And we know that you shouldn’t chat shit about them because you’re better than that (and Kanye). But what the hell are you meant to do with the ticket stubs, tagged pictures and locks of hair? This is somewhat unchartered territory and ultimately the answer is: whatever the hell you want. But I’ve gone through some of the options anyway, in case you’re still not sure how to proceed.
Burn It All
This also include blocking theme/deleting anything that mentions their name/erasing them from your life entirely. Are you sure you want to do this? Okay, sure, if they cheated on you with your best friend or they used you as a drug mule or they shaved your head in your sleep, I get why this is your preferred option. Anything less than that: hold your horses. You might think you want to obliterate this person from your life because even hearing their name makes you want to tear off your ears and put them in a blender, but are you going to feel like that in five years time? 10 years? For the rest of your life, god damnit? If the answer is still yes, girl, I’m not going to stop you. All I’m saying is don’t do anything rash, because memories are memories and they make you who you are and you might just want to revisit them someday. AMEN.
A (Heart-Shaped, Maybe?) Box Of Stuff
This is the middle ground option I'd encourage you to opt for. You broke up and you’re okay with that. Maybe it was mutual or maybe you realised that they weren’t for you and it’s all good. Whatever happened, you have memories, good and bad, and you don’t want to forget about them entirely so the obvious solution is to pack them into a box. The box is reserved for those particularly nostalgic moments or showing your kids your first boyfriend. The digital equivalent of ‘the box’ is making certain, ex-related Facebook albums ‘private’. If there’s some particularly sentimental messages on your phone you want to keep, screenshot them and file them away for that rainy day.
Even if you have a new lover, this is totally acceptable because we all have a past. What, do they think you’ve been waiting wearing a chastity belt for them to come and unlock it with their utter perfect-ness? The key here is to be subtle; keep it all somewhere they’re not going to stumble across it. No one wants a past relationship rubbed in their face. As a general rule, anything that could suggest you’re still in love with them shouldn’t be in plain sight because you’re not… are you? That’s a whole different article.
Kept It All. Everything. Even Their Toenails.
No, no, no. Stop right there. Even if you feel like your heart re-breaks into thousands of shards every time you see a word that has the same first letter as their name, having their stuff around won’t make you feel better. Keeping your favourite pair of boxers they used to wear under your pillow is not endearing or cute, it’s really gross. And creepy. Take down that holiday snap of you both on the beach, and that fluffy duck he won for you at the fair? Chuck it. You’re too old for stuffed toys, anyway. If someone comes back to yours and they see a picture of you canoodling another guy, pretending it’s your brother won’t help: incest > still not over your ex. If you’re relating to any of the aforementioned, we need to have a little chat about letting go. My Twitter handle’s below.
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This article originally appeared on The Debrief.