Last week my husband took me out for the evening. It was a last minute affair so the in-laws had not had a chance to think up a "Sorry we can't babysit because...." excuse.

In our pre-children days we would have spent time getting all dressed up and supping on a glass of wine while waiting for a taxi.

We went to a lovely pub which we had never visited before. The food was delicious and the atmosphere perfect. The staff were very friendly.

Whilst paying at the bar, one staff member was acting particularly friendly to the point where I could see my husband's eyes watching me quizzically over his pint glass. "Lyndsey, it's me" I respond with a blank stare and an over enthusiastic grin. "Fred" (not using his real name sorry) I give a bigger grin but struggle to cover the blank stare. "Fred Flintstone" still blank, psycho grin at this point.

"We used to go out" he informs me, obviously put out and more than a little offended. "Go out where...oh Fred, of course, ahem err how are you? "

As he was filling me in on the last 15 years of his life my mind was fast reliving my time with this guy. When I returned to my seat my hubby had questions.

Luckily he is neither jealous nor possessive. While I filled him in on the details, I was ashamed to find myself wishing I was wearing more make up and a sexier outfit, not because I wanted to attract Fred into wanting me again but because of the competition.

Don't pretend you don't know which competition I am referring to! Its that universal yet little acknowledged competition which all dumpers and dumpees participate in, it is called "Who is going to die happiest"!

There is one Ex who still gives me the heart crushes when I think about him.

I am not in love with him anymore but I do care a lot about him and his family as he was more than a boyfriend, he was my best friend too.

I'll be brave and admit that what crushes my heart the most is knowing that he is no longer in love with me either. I had always imagined that if we were ever to meet by chance sometime that we would be happy to see each other and excited to catch up on each others news over the last 10 years or so.

One always hopes that the chance meeting will happen on a day where you are looking your best and surrounded by people who are captivated by your wit and intelligence. Hope likes to laugh in my face.

He who will not be named walked back into my life one day a couple of years ago and lets just say there were no birds singing or chorus of angels smiling, instead there was the sound of my voice swearing at petrol pumps and the ineffectual bleep of mishit buttons as I tried to get the blimmin things to work.

He approached the till I was red in the face and in the middle of making an absolute plank of myself trying to serve the customer in front.

When I saw him I was not sure if it was him, not until he did his smug grin and then I knew.

He made no attempt to acknowledge me, no friendly hello smile, just that aggravating smug grin. I had broken up with him about 10 years ago. I hurt for years over this.

So I guess I have played on both sides of the Ex Factor competition.

Its hard to be winner and especially hard to be the loser.

Those who claim never to participate are the ones that know they would be in the losing team. Age and experience ain't a factor in the Ex factor.