My heart went out to her as she sat across the patio table from me at Jittery Joes. She was so angry and hurt. I couldn’t see her eyes behind dark sunglasses but her hands were quaking as she shifted nervously in her seat.

I was her ex-fiancé’s new love interest, and all three of us had a problem. He was hosting a party in two days and the three of us would be in the same room with their friends.

She wanted so badly to keep the peace, to show him she didn’t care, to pull this off so that all could be pals.

Why? I asked. Why do you have to be friends with him? Why do you have to be friends with me?

They had broken up barely a month before. There was no way she could know how to be around him without being his girlfriend. How could she be so willing to put herself through that?

She began to tell me that she didn’t want to be sad about it anymore. After a frantic phone call late the night before, I suggested she and I meet for coffee to clear the air. She just wanted to feel normal.

She just wanted to be prepared to see us together. She wanted to hear my point of view.

No surprises.

I knew right then that I wasn’t going to that party. I knew I wasn’t going to see him again. He wasn’t important enough to me to warrant so much hurtful drama. I liked her. I’ve been in her position. It wasn’t fair for her to have to hold it together for the sake of being chummy with the man she had been ready to marry and with his rebound — I don’t want to be that girl.

I’ve seen a number of my friends, men and women alike, go through this guilty feeling that being buddies with their exes is the “adult” thing to do. That logic is so skewed. It’s like learning you’re allergic to shellfish then eating your aunt’s shrimp scampi because it’s the “polite” thing to do.

When two people pass through the turnstile between friendship and intimacy, there’s no coming back. There is no way to see that person and ignore your history. Whether it’s 10 minutes later or 10 years later, the smoke from that earlier fire will clog the air.

Now, I know some of you readers are tight with your old, departed flames, and thus think I am exaggerating.

For you, I have two questions:

1) Were you and your old flame friends before and for how long?

If for a long time, you may be able to be salvage the friendship after time has passed and you’ve both moved on. But you’ll still be aware of the time when you were more than friends. Be honest.

2) Can you meet your ex’s new boyfriend or girlfriend without comparing yourself to them?

Be honest. You’re not friends.

As soon as I see a guy I dated before, a huge icicle drops from the back of my head, through my spine, hits my feet and shatters through the rest of my body.

I try to pretend I’m way cooler than the idiot girl he’s with now and that the furthest thing from my mind is that I know how he kisses.

This ain’t Dawson’s Creek. There is no script, as in that overly emotional TV romance. There is no plot twist and no next season. The baggage is real, and though it may get lighter, it’s not going away.

The tension from lugging around old baggage is completely natural. So why try to ignore it or work through it for the sake of staying in touch?

You can be civil and not be friends. And before you attempt to be civil, you can tear some pages out of your planner.

Space is healthy. There are plenty of other people to befriend.

There may be no hard feelings, but there are feelings nonetheless.

- Calli Arnold is a senior from Savannah majoring in journalism and international affairs