At least I don’t have to hate him. Well, not MUCH.

Of course. I’d finally shaken the pheasants out of my brain, taken a shower, sang along with some songs about hating men. Feeling OK, and… saw the message he’d sent this morning on Facebook:

“You’re a great person, but it seems like we’re looking for different things right now. I had a great time and wish you well too. As far as I’m concerned there’s no reason to avoid each other in the future, but I will respect your message and also keep an eye on guests lists [at mutual friends’ parties].”

It’d gotten tangled in the “fuckfaces you deleted/unknown messenger matrix, but was still sent this morning, meaning he just let me dangle last night.

Aaand because I will never learn, my reply:

“I feel like you’re saying the thing you’re supposed to say, but if it’s true, I’d like to know what you think I want that you don’t. Either way, I’m glad you said something. I had, perhaps mistakenly, thought we were at least KINDA friends, so I hated thinking you’d just bailed. That was really the only reason I had any issue seeing you in the future.”

If this conversation ends up dragging on all day, I’ll just recap it later. But I really am glad he said something. It means my instincts weren’t SO bad. And that I don’t have to hate him…much.

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