At first glance, dating a guy’s idol doesn’t seem all that cruel at all. But think about how you would feel if your ex rebounded with whoever’s poster happens to be on your bedroom wall. Do you want to picture your ex with, say, Taylor Swift or Rihanna? Horrible, right?
I know. And that’s exactly why I dated my ex-boyfriend’s hero.
J was probably the worst boyfriend to ever walk planet earth. He seemed to completely hate having me around. He refused to hold hands with me in public, cheated and one time let me walk into the street knowing an oncoming cab was speeding towards me.
“I was curious if you’d see it coming or not,” he shrugged after. I think he may have been a sociopath.
But as soulless as J was, he loved one thing: Athlete X. I won’t say his name, but he’s a pro hockey player and J was beyond obsessed with hockey. I’d grown up playing hockey actually but by the time J and I dated, I’d forgotten all about the sport and didn’t care one bit. That didn’t stop J from gushing about Athlete X and his latest stats and game and even his equipment. Athlete X was like the third party in our relationship–unless of course you count all the girls he cheated on me with. Loser.
Eventually, I found a pair of panties in his bed. Ugly panties, too. And finally, finally, FINALLY broke up with him. Flash forward two months–I was an editor for a men’s magazine when my coworker casually mentioned that he was interviewing Athlete X.
“OMG Athlete X!” I chirped, jumping up from my chair, gushing about how much I loved him and rattling off his stats. No one in the office had ever heard me say boo about sports until that moment, and here I was rattling off info about Athlete X that I didn’t even realize I knew.
“Well maybe I’ll set you two up!” chucked my coworker–and he did. Later that night I get a text from Athlete X! One thing lead to another and we began talking, then hanging out, then full on dating. At first, I was only doing it to spite J and oh, I made sure that he knew. Cryptic Facebook posts, vague Tweets about Athlete X’s team, an Instagram pic of X’s jersey number doodled on my hand inside a heart–oh yes. J knew. And it worked.
“You f’ing BITCH,” he wrote in a scathing email out of nowhere. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing but STAY AWAY FROM ATHLETE X!” You’d think I was sleeping with his wife or something.
I can’t lie–I felt kind of guilty and icky. I wondered if by dating Athlete X, who was terribly foxy, I had ensured that J and I could never be friends or even bump into each other and have a pleasant catch-up convo.
Then I came to my senses and realized that it was J’s crapbag behavior that had started this whole thing–all I’d done is finished it.
What do you think–is this the meanest thing you’ve heard of a girl doing to an ex? Was I totally wrong to rub Athlete X in J’s face? Or is all fair in love, war and professional sports? Tell me in the comments.