Without the ex

There's no writing this story without mentioning the ex. After a long and tumultuous relationship and a very protracted break up, lockdown finally saw us (after two years) stop talking. Completely. 

It turns out that the experience was like throwing open the windows in spring, and shaking the cobwebs out. It leaves a lot more space for light. I'm seven dates in with a lovely man, who even if it doesn't work out with, I'll feel happy to have known at all. Those seven dates have made me secretly very grateful for a year spent largely cooped up inside because it finally made me feel ready to get to know someone new who I didn't have to talk about coronavirus with. 

The ex, he's met someone too. Who knew you should always stop talking to them?