My Ex: The Buddhist Monk

At the tender age of fifteen I fell hard for a guy with a curly Mohawk. He had it all: A car, a band, and an abrasive sense of humor. Swoon. He would brave the 5 mile bike ride to my house late at night after my parents forbid me to see him. (His mom found a condom in the pocket of his jeans). I was completely ignorant of the dirt bag that would surface six months later. He dumped me in my parent’s basement on the eve of Valentine’s Day to date my best friend. Something out of a teen movie. I was tormented by the thought of his existence for a little while, then, I moved on. Karma would be a bigger bitch then I could be.
About three months ago I was updating my status on the fb to something I cannot recall anymore, and a message popped up. An, “Oh yay!” fired in my head but then quickly turned into a, “…Whut?!” when I clicked on the inbox. It was from that curly headed fuck. Only now, he had a shaved head and was roughly ten to fifteen pounds heavier. I looked around the room slowly with my mouth open wide, and then I began to read.
He started up the message by apologizing for what he did years ago. He did a lot of shitty things during high school, and I was one of the people that he hurt.
..okay..
He then asked if I wanted to maybe meet up sometime before he moved. I didn’t hesitate to agree and said, sure. Why not?
I really had no idea what to expect when I walked into that hole-in-the-wall restaurant in Manchester. The whole drive there I was mentally cussing myself out. Oh. He was already inside, sitting by the hostess stand. We gave each other a super uncomfortable hug and was seated. Over a couple beers we talked about our past endeavors. I told him how I got into UNH after only being rejected once. I continued on about my love for music and how I miss going to shows around here. He went on about this and that. I was impressed to find out that he owned a restaurant in Manchester. I laughed to tears when he told me about his adventures- he’s the type of guy that will try anything once. Unsavory things sometimes.
I cut to the chase, “So Brandon.. What made you decide to apologize to me? I mean I’m glad you did, but it’s been so long since I’ve talked to you.”
“I just wanted to close that door to my past, and the only way to do that is to have closure. I’m moving to Sri Lanka next week. I’m going to be a Buddhist monk.”
Hahaha.
I paused for a few seconds to see if he was messing with me, but he wasn’t! He explained that he sold his car, got the passport, and was serious about this. After we finished our drinks and bid one another a "take care", I got into my car a believer. But it got better.
Word got around town that two weeks after selling his business and moving to Sri Lanka, Brandon the Monk went back to being Brandon the curly headed fuck when a poisonous spider found him.

Karma.