Many of you for may remember my on and off former sig. other who I refer to as 'The Canadian' for uncreative and obvious reasons. I broke up with him at 12:03 on New Year’s Eve 2007 and then sealed the deal later in February. We have stayed in touch over the past year, not in any romantic context (at least on my end) or in any way that could possibly undermine my relationship with the Russian. We would touch base via txt, call or IM every few weeks. And now – he’s making his annual pilgrimage to our nation’s capitol, his former home. 

By way of some background information, we broke up for the following reasons: #1. During our relationship, his priorities were in the following order: work, friends, hockey, cooking, drinking, reading, cleaning, watching West Wing reruns…THEN me. #2. During our entire on-again/off-again dating cycle, I did not once meet his friends, family, nor was I ever introduced to anyone we happened to run into as his girlfriend. #3. Because of reasons 1 & 2, I never felt important, loved or included in his life as one should when they are in a healthy relationship.

Over the past year (both during and post-Russian) he has apologized profusely, proclaimed his idiocy and stated in no uncertain terms that he would like us to try again, that we belong together and that we will live happily ever after. My reaction to these grand overtures and statements could be described as tolerant at best. The lack of enthusiasm comes not from a shortage of affection, or attraction (the man is a taller version of JFK Jr.). It comes from the fact that I’ve been on this ride, I’ve gotten off the merry-go-round and the theme park is closing.

Conclusion: I have mixed emotions surrounding this visit.

On one hand, we have known each other for a very long time now, and it is always nice to spend time with old friends. Add to that the fact that it’s been awhile since I’ve had sex and, well…a gal can’t live on batteries alone. On the other, it may be an incredibly awkward situation as I know he is harboring romantic ambitions towards yours truly and I am still licking fresh relationship wounds.

The situation escalated when Mr. Canada called last night to ask if he might be able to stay with me during his last few days in DC. My response…not altogether a positive one, which apparently took him by surprise. I immediately supplemented my answer with the explanation that I didn’t think it would be productive to put unnecessary pressure on a potentially volatile situation. I was looking forward to becoming reacquainted with him and I thought the task might be best accomplished in a low tension scenario as opposed to forcing an existence in the confines of my fabulous, yet compact studio apartment. A rational argument, no?

The boy acted like I took away his cotton candy and told him he was too short to ride the Ferris wheel.

I feel bad. Bad that I hurt him – and upset him. But until I see some actual, measurable improvement in his treatment of me – there’s no WAY my recently pedi'd Manolo-clad feet are leaving the ground.

I was once addicted to this ride and the adreniline, but now I know that in the end, it will probably make me sick.

Frankly,