Call it a lapse in judgement.
Or extending an olive branch.
A month ago I messaged *Gillian, an ex’s girlfriend. I told her since she knew who I was, we should chat. I could answer some questions about *Joshua. My off-and-on ex-boyfriend from high school. By no means was it going to be a “OMG, is he still a messy kisser?” discussion.
Actually, he never was a messy kisser.
Since that message, I’ve noticed an increase in the glares from people my age. Little daggers shot my way when I go into town.
I was walking to the grocery store. A brown-haired girl was crossing the street with her boyfriend. I assume her boyfriend. Anyway, she saw me. Stopped. In the middle of the street. Whispered to her boyfriend. Glared at me. Of course, we all went into the same store. Where they grabbed a cart, almost hit me, and shot daggers at me in the produce aisle.
I shook my head and chose my tomatoes. I grabbed my gluten-free bread and left. After I paid, of course.
Did I mention, the brown-haired girl resembled Gillian. Who has sisters? Hooray for attempting to hand out sage advice.
But I realized this wasn’t an isolated incident. I covered another event. And the organizers, especially one of them who’s acquaintances with Joshua, was cold towards me. The other organizers? Let’s just say I felt an Arctic chill. Same with another event. Basically, “do what you’re here for, then leave.”
So much for feeling safe after dark. And I wish I were kidding.
If the issue’s that seven line message, that’s sad. I’m not a cruel or vengeful person. My true friends know this. Unfortunately, they’re in the city or another part of the country.
It would be nice if the daggers stopped though. My skin is only so thick.
*Names changed for privacy