One of Those Women...

I've become one of those women. You know, the ones who wear makeup at the gym. Not a lot but enough so that my skin glows with the inner beauty we women naturally possess. In reality, however, when I'm at the gym, my face turns beet red after 10 minutes of serious cardio and I can't have my ex boyfriend see me like that now that he's my ex can I?

Did I mention I happened to move into an apartment a block away from my now ex-boyfriend and a week before the move...ah...yeah, we broke up. In the month that I've been there I have yet to run into him and...ah...yeah, we go to the same gym. So now that that's all cleared up...

I've become one of them. On the pro side- it forces me to look my best at any given moment. On the con side- IT'S EXHAUSTING. Even as I sit here at this quaint cafe, I look in...well, I'm not even sure what kind of, anticipation. Is it...he? Is this the moment we've both most likely, at least in some way, thought about since the day of the split?

You know the moment. That first meeting where you see who wins. Not who wins the war. That can only be determined years later when either one of you has won an Oscar, the lottery or ends up with a terminal illness or a semi-manageable drinking problem. No, this is about who wins the battle of firsts. The one who looks the best the first time you meet, the first to be involved again with an even more fabulous, never knew love could be so good, person who sends the ex running home to lick his/her wounds and call all their friends to discuss how he/she couldn't possibly be happier with that shell of a human hanging on his/her arm.

And let's face it, it's rather ironic that we all go to the gym to look our best but while we're there, we actually look our worst. I was rather pleased with my total body conditioning class last Saturday. Not only did I kick ass in a class that usually kicks mine but more importantly, I had obtained that fuck me I'm sweaty and hot glow and actually hoped I'd run into him. I'd run into him and I'd win.

I had even taken to wearing my hair down on the treadmill which sometimes works well for that post workout sex appeal. Unfortunately, even though I'm fit, my face usually turns ten shades of red when I run and I don't think I've ever been less attractive.

Of course, he's seen me that way before; after a year and a half together he's seen me at my worst. But we all know, when you see your ex for the first time and he/she really looks good, better than you remembered, that's the permanent image you have of the ex in your head and it drives you crazy that you got the worst of it and someone else, said shell of a human, is going to get the best of it.

It may be, admittedly, totally unfounded, but the heart doesn't usually listen to reason. And then I started thinking about all those women wearing makeup to the gym. Maybe they're just waiting for that moment when they run into their exes too.