I saw her yesterday. She was walking past where I was sitting, but she didn't see me.
I saw her parking space was empty. No doubt she was at work.
I looked at her window as I was walking past, and the light was on. She was probably studying.
Guess what? I didn't feel anything.
I can't say I didn't care, because I still looked.
I can't say I didn't care, because I still looked.
But I didn't feel anything. Not hate, not fear, not love, not sadness. Nothing. Apathy.
It makes my skin crawl.
I think Janelle is the one that says that the opposite of love is apathy.
ReplyDeleteI'm not scared of her, I'm scared that I don't care.
P.S. Her name starts with the same letters as my sister's name, so I saw it every time I went through my contacts. I really didn't want her associated with my sister in my head, so I changed her name. I'm not so stupid as to take her out of my contacts. She did that to me. That's a dick move.
So I changed it to "Ayesha." Have you ever read any H. Rider Haggard? King Solomon's Mines, and then Ayesha.
It's clever and literary, because it's the name of She Who Must Not Be Named. Look at me, such a nerd.
I am indeed the one who says that. Maybe not the only one? But I definitely say that!
ReplyDeleteI'm not good with this sort of thing (probably?) but based on the one experience I've had with the jagged edges of a breakup . . . honestly, I think that apathy is a part of the process. At least, I went through it shortly before I realized that well, for lack of better phrasing, my ordeal was over.
I hope that's true for you. I really, really, do.
Also: I get the whole deleting contacts thing. My sister told me to delete him, but I didn't, even though his name is the very first one I see every time I open my contacts list. But I'm okay with that now? I wish I'd thought of your solution. It's clever and literary, indeed. :-)
I agree. That is a dick move. Good for you not making a dick move.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry that you're apathetic. It's no fun, I know.
ReplyDelete(Also, I had no idea how intensely you and she-who-must-not-be-named were not friends anymore . . . I'm . . . sorry.)
Oh, goodness. Yeah, Brooke. You can use her name. It's Kayla. I don't want to refer to her as my ex-girlfriend, because it's pointless. She's not my friend. She's just a girl at this point. Not by my choice, but by hers.
ReplyDeleteWe're not friends anymore. She was a good acquaintance. She was a good girlfriend. She is a good person.
She is a horrible, terrible, no-good, very bad ex.
And I'm done trying.
And, honestly, I am glad for that.
ReplyDeleteSee how you are able to acknowledge both the good and bad in her without rejecting her completely or accepting all her flaws as perfect?
Sorry.
But still. I think that's maturity.
I haven't met Wordsworth, so I have to judge by the things he chose to leave behind.
ReplyDeleteWhat he chose is not flattering.
Perhaps I'm wrong. The chances against it are high.
Yeah, I get it. It's a valid argument.
ReplyDeleteI'm still not quite satisfied with it, but that's okay.