Tales from Witness Protection, or something like it
This week would look better on fire.
Things are fine, really. I’m sort of meetinged out, so there’s nothing really to say after 6 p.m. anymore.
For those of you who have been in, let’s say, an abusive relationship of any kind … I’m sure you’ve been contacted by the nutbag ex you left. But what do you do if, say, the literal devil’s advocate tries to contact you?
For me, the breakup happens with everyone. I simply cannot trust that their sister, cousin or other disciple has only honest intentions. I wouldn’t doubt that they were offered some sort of cash prize for any information on your whereabouts.
And, sure, there’s a part of you who liked their sibling or friend. Maybe a big part of you. But where does their loyalty really lie? Even if you left without any fear, you don’t want them to decide to turn up on your doorstep anytime soon.
The fact that you didn’t file a lawsuit (or haven’t yet) doesn’t mean you’re not bitter about losing X amount of time out of your life. Moreover, it doesn’t mean that anything resembling a door is anything resembling being ajar.
There is a level of curiosity, of course. Not with the ex. But with the sibling or friend. Like, do they have the first inkling why you left, or are you just the bad girl who supposedly broke his heart?
Friends always have stories, after you’ve left someone. The “I never liked him anyway” stuff — the “oh, here’s a story I never wanted to tell you before.”
Uh … why didn’t you tell me? OK, maybe I wouldn’t have listened. But when I was agonizing over whether I was the one who was losing my mind, this would have been, oh, helpful information.
Oh well. Water under the bridge. Tracks under the crazy train. Lies, damned lies, and a whole bunch of fucking lies, lies, lies.
And I’m not about to get positioned to get run over again.