Ex-Girlfriends

I like you. I do.

I just need a break.

A break...Up?

No, no, no, no.

Not a break-up.

Just...a break.

What's the difference?

I mean, besides two letters...

- Graham.

- And a hyphen?

Okay.

It's not that I don't want to be

If you had known this was gonna happen,

you wouldn't have brought her here.

You would've gone somewhere

where no one knows you,

Not the place downstairs

from your apartment.

I feel like we're really on different pages,

maturity-wise.

Maybe I never really took the time I

needed to get over my ex-boyfriend.

Turkey on wheat.

Thanks.

Can I get you anything else?

No. Thanks.

Does that make sense?

So, are we...

It's not you.

It's me.

So it's you.

But I don't know.

Maybe it's kind of you, too.

So it's me?

I mean, we just kind of

jumped into something,

and I didn't take the time

to be on my own.

And this photography class I'm taking

is just taking up all my time and...

Everything was going so well.

You had introduced her to your parents.

She bought you that old typewriter

for your birthday.

And now you're here,

the crushing reminder that no matter

how close you think you are to someone,

you never know when

it's all going to just fall apart.

And you don't answer,

or if you do answer,

it's just like you're not there.

Graham?

- Paul.

- Paul.

Freshman year.

Batel, first floor.

Hi.

It's so funny I'm just

running into you now.

I'm here all the time.

That's funny.

Know who's having a party tonight?

No.

Sam.

Sam?

Sam.

Sam. Right.

Yeah.

Sophomore year, we all lived

third floor Stewart.

Sam.

You got to come.

You both should come.

I'm gonna text the address later on,

and I will see you there.

All right.

- Ciao.

- Later.

- Nice to meet you.

- See you.

Sorry. What were you saying?

Well, I was saying that sometimes it

doesn't feel like you're present, like...

like I don't even know if you're...

if you're listening to me

or what I'm thinking.

I mean, I can't tell what you're thinking.

You're just all over the place.

And as you sit there, it all

starts to feel very familiar.

And all the words start to sound like

all the other times

you've been broken up with,

or broken up with someone.

And you start to realize

that your life might completely

be going in circles.

I just don't think you know what you want.

But I'd like to stay in touch.

Maybe we can grab a coffee sometime.

Items to be returned/thrown away.

One copy, "unbearable lightness of being"

with notes in the margins,

lent/given as gift on second date.

One postcard from trip to Spain,

with affectionate writings on the back.

One purple shirt, given as gift,

rarely worn except in her presence.

One typewriter, Underwood 1939,

given as birthday gift.

Well, no need to get carried away.

Three Bobby pins, date

of origin unknown.

One letter written to Samantha

after first date

while she was in Phoenix for some reason,

unsent.

Letters from camp girlfriend,

circa sixth grade.

One photo key chain

made with college girlfriend

senior year at last chance dance.

Photos of various ex-girlfriends.

Old notebooks,

Ideas for novels that were never written.

Lists of things to do that were never done.

Notes taken during class.

Notes written to distract you from class.

Long entries about girls you

haven't thought about in years

who used to seem like the most

important person in the world.

People you've lost track of

but you still think about sometimes.

From now on, just move forward, move ahead,

focus on the present,

don't look back,

Don't get caught up

thinking about the past.

or whatever you do, don't.

Hey, Paul.

Right. Sam's party.

Okay.

See you there.

Hi.

Hey. I know you, man.

Uh, Grant.

Graham.

Graham! That's it.

I met you at, um...

Where (did) we meet?

When you see her at the party,

you're not sure it's her at first.

If it is her,

then she's changed her hair,

that's for sure.

It has been three years, so

that does seem fairly likely.

We were at that party together,

- at the Tribec...

- Excuse me.

I think that's my ex-girlfriend.

I hate that. I mean I just...

I can't stand running into exes

Oh, well, we'll catch up later, man.

- Hey.

- Hey.

Um, was that girl's name Laura?

Yeah, it is.

You wait in the hall, anxious,

looking awkward talking to no one.

but you don't wanna get caught in

a conversation and miss your chance.

Finally, she emerges.

It's her, Laura.

She looks just like she did.

Now is the moment,

the moment when your eyes will lock

and everything will come together.

Oh, yeah, yeah.

He just told me that.

I Like blog.

I'm, like, a blogger.

I write stuff about, like,

you know, my day and what

I'm eating... that kinda thing.

Oh, that's really neat.

Hi!

Oh, hey!

How are you?

I'm good. How are you?

Good.

Um... what are you doing here?

I... I know Sam.

Oh, I...

I didn't know you knew Sam.

Yeah. No. Uh, through Paul.

- Right.

- Right.

Right. Of course. Yeah.

Um...

I thought you moved.

I did. Um...

I did, and I was away for a while,

but now I'm back, so...

You ease into a routine

of irrelevant questions

and overly enthusiastic replies.

You try and make it seem

that everything's all right

and that life has been going well,

despite that e-mail you sent

late one night after a few too many drinks.

You try and make it seem like there's nothing

awkward about this chance meeting

but when you look at her smile,

you're reminded of how things used to be,

and you wonder why it ended

the way it did

and how your life has come to this point.

Hey, you'll never guess who's here.

Oh, um...

I should probably go,

but, um...

It's really good to see you.

It's good to see you, too.

So, was it her, dude?

Yeah, it was her.

Oh, man! That...

How'd it go? Did you guys talk?

And that's when Ben enters the picture,

the guy you've met a dozen times

who never remembers your name.

Hey. How's it going, Ben?

Hey.

Graham.

Yeah.

Yeah, I know, dude.

How are you?

Good. How are you?

Good. You know, the same, but...

Good. Good.

Uh, this is, uh... Ben.

Ben, this is, uh...

som...

...somebody.

Cool.

Yeah.

Okay.

Okay.

You have a drink,

and then another,

thinking that maybe she'll notice

your world-weary malaise

and find it charming,

like she used to.

You keep a close watch on where she is

in the room the rest of the night,

trying not to be too close,

but trying to also be available

in anticipation of the follow-up conversation

where you both might open up more

and have a more in-depth talk

where she tells you that she's been thinking about how she regrets the way things ended

that maybe you two should

get a coffee and catch up.

No,

a drink.

Yes, a drink.

If she says coffee, that means she doesn't really want to meet

and she's just being polite.

The night goes on and on, and

you keep looking over at her

and explaining to your

friends

how strange it is

that you used to go out with that girl

and haven't seen her in years.

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