See, to me, "Hello, Goodbye" sounds not-done. It says "I can't talk about that."
I can talk about it with STBX all day long. I have no positive feelings for her at all. That part of my world exists without hue -- red-for-love; no green-for-jealousy; no black-for-anger. As I put it in my last thread, I'm beige; I beige her.
So if she asks a question - "why can't we be Teh Awesome Exes and hang out and stuff?" - I'm happy to provide answer: because I don't like you. I don't have Not-Like for you - I just don't have any interest in your existence as a human being apart from your role as my kids' mother.
[And memo to STBX, don't leave for a 7-day Foreign F*ck Fest and promise the kids you'll send them e-mails and pictures and let it now be the 7th day and be on your way to Humongous Foreign Airport for the flight Stateside and not have sent them a single thing, 'cause I'm not making excuses for you but I don't want to bad-mouth you to Themselves, either -- and they're pissed.]
And that, to me, is Done-ness. Doesn't mean I won't call her out on the Batsh*t Karazee - does mean I don't give a rat's a** why she's crazy or what she's hurting about. Maybe she is hurting; maybe she is confused. That's a problem.
But it's not my problem.
As my old Drill Sergeant used to say, where she's concerned it's a choice between hard-a** and bubblegum - and I'm fresh out of bubblegum.
There's a key to the cipher-lock of my heart, alright. And judging by my experience (cf, Schnarch Passionate Marriage) of Miss Someone these past 6 months, STBX wouldn't be likely to find it with a map, a compass, and a troop of Boy Scouts.
