The Ex I saw my ex for the first time post-braceface transformation. I made sure my hair was curled, my makeup was on, and my trendiest jeans were clean. But no matter how polished the rest of me is, the second I open my mouth I become a pre-adolescent again. Isn’t it funny, that no matter how aware I am of the fact that we wouldn’t have worked out long-term, I still want him to be empty without me. I still want to see him see me. I still want to feel the longing in his hug. He didn’t hug me. Not that he wouldn’t have, but the group dynamic plus the timetable of arrivals minus the collective awareness of the group to the state of affairs made it feel out of place. He called me later and told me how thin I looked (thank you braces-induced, non-solid-food diet!) and how my braces were hardly noticeable. It’s going to be worth it. It has to be. Just a little bit of self-torture for a lifetime of worry free smiling! Well, ¾’s of a lifetime anyway…as long as I live to be 128...I better....with the money I’m putting into this little adventure I better live to be at least 100, have three wonderful children with perfectly straight teeth from birth, and smile so much it will hurt to frown. I know that ten years from now, or even five years from now, this experience will hardly seem like a trial. It’s just so hard to be in this moment knowing that nothing but time will end it.