WRITER JAMES WALLING PLIES AN EX FOR SECRETS FROM THE PAST WITH AN OFFER OF ABSOLUTION

It was no small task persuading an ex-girlfriend to confess her darkest secrets to me, let alone on the record, but one brave soul I dated for several years in my early 20s agreed to be interrogated after I promised blanket amnesty for any sins or misdeeds. Who wouldn’t want to know all the little white (and not-so-white) lies they were told by their exes, right? Well, I wasn’t so sure, but I went ahead with it anyway. Naturally the names have been changed to protect the, uh, innocent.

Photo by James Walling

JW: Back when we were living together, somebody slashed the tires of my old blue pickup. I suspected it was a jilted ex of yours. Any ideas who did it and why?
EX: I figured that if it wasn’t one of your exes, then it was him (you’re thinking of Jack, right?). I never found out for sure, but I did do a number on him.

JW: Did a number on him?
EX: I did. We drove out to Portland from New Hampshire together with another couple (and two dogs), had crazy sex along the way and then, after he introduced me to you, I just left him. This is after he and I had spent time with his family and friends as a “couple.” I don’t think he ever forgave me, but I liked you better.

JW: It calls to mind the maxim, “If she did it to him, she’ll do it to you.” Except that as far as I know you were an angel while we were together. Could be you kept me in the dark, eh? Whose tires would I want to slash if I knew everything there is to know?
EX: I may have (drunkenly) made out with a girl at the bar a couple of times, but by the time I started doing really nasty stuff, we were broken-up and you were hopping freight trains. A friend of yours once tried to get me into bed. After I declined, I figured he’d start telling you what a whore I was. Did he keep his mouth shut?

JW: I don’t recall anyone slandering you. Based on future events [events with other girlfriends], however, you must be talking about Gavin.
EX: You were working late. I was cooking dinner. He and I were talking, drinking wine, and he came up behind me (this so sounds like a Danielle Steele novel). He tried to kiss me, and I almost choked on a mouthful of Merlot. I wasn’t offended so much as amused. It was like a bad joke. I felt sorry for him. I remember him walking in on us once; he looked like a 6-year-old catching his parents in the sack—scared, curious and slightly pathetic.

JW: What caused the infatuation, do you think, apart from your feminine wiles?
EX: I think it was less an infatuation with me than a competition with you.

JW: What did the bastard say when you turned him down?
EX: I don’t remember him saying anything. I think we both just ignored it and I went on cooking.

JW: Any other scumbag moments on the part of my friends?
EX: None that I recall, though we were always flirting. There was a night at Bobby’s house—absinthe, wine and some nudity—but nothing dirty.

JW: Even if you didn’t embark on any affairs—faithful girl that you are—you must have considered it. Any close calls? Any secret crushes?
EX: I always had a crush on one of the guys that worked at the coffee shop with me. I almost kissed him in the walk-in once, but I realize you’re referring to your friends. I had crushes on all of them. I was in love with them all a little. That was something I loved about dating you. In the beginning, it was like dating five guys at once. This, of course, is one of the things that killed it in the end.

JW: How did your affection for my group of friends help to “kill it in the end?”
EX: It wasn’t my affection for them; it was their affection for me. Everyone thought they knew best. After you left on your trip, each one of them took turns giving me advice and “insight.” In the end, I burned myself out trying to listen to everyone.

JW: What kind of advice were you getting?
EX: Friend A saying, “Stay with him, he loves you!” Friend B saying, “He’s a selfish prick, leave him!” Over time, that would wreak havoc on anyone’s decision-making process.

JW: How about this business about you making out with a girl a couple of times? I know it’s gratuitous of me, but do tell.
EX: You boys and your lesbian fantasies. I was underage in a bar on Burnside and I was trying to pick up chicks. I was drunk, and my memory of the night is pretty and misty and probably totally inaccurate.

JW: Go on, hazard a recollection, and place it chronologically.
EX: We had been dating for a while, you were obsessed with one of your projects, and I felt underappreciated. I decided to cheer myself up with a little anonymous necking. She was a little older than I was, and she knew I was underage. I ended up going home with a friend who happened to show up and realized how wasted I was.

JW: Who took you home? You must have had some friends I didn’t know.
EX: Holly brought me home. She came out with her beau, Will. You knew them both. I do admit that I kept some of my friendships private. I think it made me feel better knowing that I had something that wasn’t yours too.

JW: What’s the worst secret you ever kept from me?
EX: That I used drugs in our home.

JW: I knew you got high once during your first few visits to the house, but I always thought you were clean after that. Not true?
EX: Not true. I managed to do most of my using outside the house, but there were lots of times I brought my highs home. I’m certainly not proud of it. I never liked lying to you about it, but as awful as it was, it makes where I am now so much sweeter.

JW: I guess I’m pretty naive. How might I have been more observant?
EX: Book smart, street stupid? No. Why would anyone think for a moment that sweet little me would be doing drugs in the potty. I don’t think there was any fault on your part in that regard.

JW: Anything else worth confessing?
EX: I still have a shirt of yours.

JW: Do you use it for voodoo?
EX: Naw…I’d FedEx it tomorrow if I thought it would survive the trip.

JW: Do you think it worked out for the best that you kept this stuff to yourself for so long, or would things have turned out better if you had spilled?
EX: Now that’s a fucking essay! I honestly don’t know. I think it may have been easier for you not knowing. It was probably easier for me not telling. But I don’t think we’d be talking now if I had told you everything. Some things are just easier to swallow with time.

JW: I was a real idiot sometimes, but would you believe I’m so boring that I have nothing of my own to confess?
EX: Not for a second.