I’ve been invited to another gathering (New Year’s Day) where I may or may not run into Guy I Dated for a Minute.
This is, like…Schrodinger’s Awkward.
I wrote a quick email essentially saying, “We cool?” It’s probably unnecessary — I’d like to think we’re both adults and could exist in the same room for a few hours. But…fuck it, I am a child, and I need to know. I’m terrible at uncertainty.
EDIT: He replied, said we were “definitely friends” and that he wouldn’t be at the New Year’s party. *nod* Cool. Done and done.
Maybe 2 years ago I deleted a college classmate from Facebook because we’d never really talked other than that time he man-splained cell phone plans to me. I get enough of that shit from the men (and women) in my family, thanks. Boy, bye.
I think today is the…third (fourth?) time since then he’s sent me a new friend request. And once there was a direct message asking where I’d gone.
The first few times I denied his request, I felt kinda mean, because “It’s just Facebook,” but now…nah. I feel pretty OK about this choice. And about blocking him so he can’t do it again.
Tonight I’m going to a party where I may or may not see Guy I Dated for a Minute, and I officially hate my brain and its tendency to overthink. Mostly because it’s overthinking the fact that HE’s likely not overthinking a goddamn thing.
I should mention: I am fully aware he tapped — heh — into some things in my brain he couldn’t POSSIBLY have known about. I could’ve behaved differently, so I know it’s not totally his fault that he’s a giant bitch-baby.
I just admitted to not knowing about a particular political issue, and my brain kicked in with, “You know one day your friends are gonna realize how stupid you are and not be your friends anymore, right?”
*sigh* Yes, Brain. You’ve mentioned.
But also? Fuck you, Brain. My friends know I’m the Joey, and they love me anyway — no one’s expecting me to blow their mind with my thoughts on Hamas.
“BTW, I just got out of therapy and you wanna hear some horseshit? Not only does she want me to be happy and well adjusted, turns out she can’t just ask me a couple questions and fix 40 years of shit in 45 minutes. It’s, like…long-term work? That *I* have to figure out with her help? This is just like all this alleged ‘exercise’ people want me to be doing. UGH.”
P.S. It’s a joke, I knew what I was getting into. But it IS also bullshit that I drew the short straw in the brain department.
I am legit staring at this man’s face in his OkCupid profile, trying to decide if I’m physically attracted to him.
I don’t think I am, but he lives in goddamn Delaware, anyway. *shaking fist at geography*
I’m at least sending him a “we need to be friends” message.