Why do exes think I want to be their Facebook friend?

Why do exes think I want to be their Facebook friend? in People suck. Cats are awesome. Dogs are alright.

  •  June 23, 2017, 1:53 a.m.
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So my most recent ex, before my current, two decade partner, sent me a friend request on Facebook. My immediate reaction: “Ha ha ha ha. What am I, an idiot? Does he think that I forgot how he cheated on me with some guy in a trailer court, (No, that’s not a typo. He’s either gay or bi, and I found out about a year in, by surprise, that he really likes anal.) left me to go to parties without me, dumped me eight times in two years, and generally made me look like a fool?”
But as I was painting Shub Niggurath tonight, it occurred to me that I’ve accepted friend requests from other ex-boyfriends. So I’m trying to pin down why this is different.
The other exes in question were both high school boyfriends, whom I no longer feel much of anything about, good or bad.
One I sort of feel bad for, because he was a friend of my father’s long after we split up, and he’s been unfairly labeled as a “sex offender”. It’s a long story, involving two vindictive teenage nieces of his wife.
The other I laugh at, because he was, and is, a dirtbag; and now he’s on wife number three, with “estranged” children, and a criminal record for domestic violence. Plus, he’s fat and bald. Bwahahaha. - I actually went out of my way to chat with him on the Facebook messenger, specifically to point out how much better my life is than his, because screw him. >:D
This third guy, though, I don’t know where he is in life. He might be raking in six figures a year, or living on probation. Neither would surprise me. And our break up took place when I was 26. My identity was well established. I was more or less the same person then as I am now, minus the multitudinous layers of bitterness and rage and PTSD from horrible experiences.
And there it is. The other two were from so far back that I wasn’t really the same person; and I know that both of their lives turned out significantly crappier than mine.
This one, even twenty one years later, I’d like nothing more than to beat to death with a pipe. Starting at his feet and working my way up, for maximum possible pain. In retrospect, I think I can armchair diagnose him with either narcissism or histrionic personality disorder.
One thing about it: He was the last person that I chose on the basis of my “feelings”. He cemented for me the fact that I am attracted to malicious assholes. (Of course I now know that that’s very probably because I like someone whose just as weird as I am, and unfortunately, none of the guys I found that fit that description were aspies. They were other, more malicious things.)
At any rate, I met my partner of the last 21 years during one of our break-ups, when the ex went to a Halloween party, and I was not invited. I was not physically attracted to him, but he was buying gas for my car, and buying me dinner, and opening the door; and I figured: With this person, I will not get hurt. He obviously adored me. It’s a decision I haven’t regretted.
To anyone wondering, after my last entry, yes it’s resolved. I knew it would be. He’s apologized and promised to use words next time. (Duh.)
But I recommend that strategy to anyone, though whether or not a neurotypical can do it without emotional torture, I don’t know. Commit to a person who obviously worships the ground you walk on, not the one whose foot steps you worship. That latter person is practically guaranteed to be an asshat, every single time, because they know that you’d die for them, and sooner or later, they’re going to take advantage of you, cheat on you, take you for granted, or make you look like a fool. Take the person who feels that way about you, instead, even if they don’t light your proverbial fire. There’s A LOT to be said for stability, predictability, trustworthiness, and dependability.
Two decades later he still opens the door, cooks dinner, and cuts the grass.
It shouldn’t be surprising that picking your partner logically has a better outcome than just following your sex drive; but nobody else I’ve ever met thus far has done it. The myth of “following your heart” and “living happily ever after” is too well established.
So maybe I should “friend” the ex just long enough to see where he’s gotten in life, then block him if he’s not suitably suffering.

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