The insignificant significant other

A week has passed since any conversations of significance have been had. So when one very significant conversation creeped up on me last Thursday, I was taken-aback. The relative consumption of alcohol following said conversation shouldn't come as a surprise either once you have a firm grasp on the content. I'm not sure I do, but here goes:

Being demoted from lover to best friend (especially without warning) comes privy to some very interesting details. Unfortunately for me, these details became quite painful to patiently and encouragingly listen to. In fact, I don't even think they've fully sunken in, I'm still feeling somewhat numb and nonchalant.

How is one supposed to feel after learning that their lover of two months just broke up with his girlfriend barely two months ago? For me the timing seems eerily inconvenient, for him the timing seems too convenient. Of course, who but myself do I have to blame for becoming entangled yet again in another other woman scenario.

It is as if I cannot help but be the other woman, the woman who if the timing were better, or my heart weren't just broken, or if I hadn't just given my heart to someone else, would be perfect. But for now, I'm just fine. Settle-worthy. Not quite, but almost. Transitory.

I am constantly becoming the insignificant significant other. And I don't like it.

I'm not a consolation. And knowing this, and the deep levels of deception conveniently tucked away in my exes pocket, I find that I'm beyond tears. Surely I'm disappointed, but my head swims at my unfortunate choices.

What I am left with is the words of Jeff Buckley, "I think much more than I oughta think, I do things I never should do" and a bottle of empty Lilac wine.