Mawwiage is what brings us togevuh today
So Michael and the Strudel are getting married. Does that make him Mister Strudel? It's no surprise since when he broke it off with me, after knowing her a week, he said he wanted to marry her. I found out the recent news through a girlfriend who was thoughtful enough to call me and let me know so I didn't find out in some weird way.
My first thoughts? Eh.
At this point I'd probably be expected to either to talk about both of their many flaws and hop the trolley to Bittersville or to paint on an unconvincingly glad face and say things like "great! I hope they're really happy!"
I'm not really in either of those places.
My only true feeling at the moment is sort of mild annoyance because I'm going to spend the next few days thinking about it. Not even exciting thinking like "oh I wish it had been me" (y'all know I don't think that) and "I'm going to wind up old and alone and unhappy and no one will ever love me." (nope, not this one either) No, I'm just thinking, and it bugs me because I'd rather be thinking about something else.
Not thinking about Michael has been one of the great luxuries of the past six months. I've hardly thought about him with any depth since my grandfather went into the hospital. There's nothing unresolved and I'm not angry, I'm just…done. Different priorities.
True it's uncomfortable to see them together because it's hard watching someone I used to respect and love act like a fool, what with the public displays of affection that border on public displays of impregnation. Mostly when I see him I just think "wow. There's a train wreck I was lucky to escape. I worry about that poor crazy girl."
As far as wishing them well, I do but it's in a very passive way. Truth is, I just don't care. Sure I want them to be happy but if they're not…eh. I know that's not quite loving my neighbor (we're all neighbors, right?) but I'm working on it.
Honestly, from what I know of him and the little I know of her, I can't imagine it's going to be a healthy relationship, but --and I have to keep telling myself this because y'all know I've never met a hurt little puppy I didn't want to rescue-- it's not my place, problem or right to say anything.
...as long as they don't get married at Beerland.
My first thoughts? Eh.
At this point I'd probably be expected to either to talk about both of their many flaws and hop the trolley to Bittersville or to paint on an unconvincingly glad face and say things like "great! I hope they're really happy!"
I'm not really in either of those places.
My only true feeling at the moment is sort of mild annoyance because I'm going to spend the next few days thinking about it. Not even exciting thinking like "oh I wish it had been me" (y'all know I don't think that) and "I'm going to wind up old and alone and unhappy and no one will ever love me." (nope, not this one either) No, I'm just thinking, and it bugs me because I'd rather be thinking about something else.
Not thinking about Michael has been one of the great luxuries of the past six months. I've hardly thought about him with any depth since my grandfather went into the hospital. There's nothing unresolved and I'm not angry, I'm just…done. Different priorities.
True it's uncomfortable to see them together because it's hard watching someone I used to respect and love act like a fool, what with the public displays of affection that border on public displays of impregnation. Mostly when I see him I just think "wow. There's a train wreck I was lucky to escape. I worry about that poor crazy girl."
As far as wishing them well, I do but it's in a very passive way. Truth is, I just don't care. Sure I want them to be happy but if they're not…eh. I know that's not quite loving my neighbor (we're all neighbors, right?) but I'm working on it.
Honestly, from what I know of him and the little I know of her, I can't imagine it's going to be a healthy relationship, but --and I have to keep telling myself this because y'all know I've never met a hurt little puppy I didn't want to rescue-- it's not my place, problem or right to say anything.
...as long as they don't get married at Beerland.
posted by Rhiannon at 11:46 AM
1 Comments:
Hey Rhiannon... first of all, here's a blogstone: (o).
Second of all, thanks for highlighting the Holy Smoke! barbecue ministry in Austin... I read about it on RevGalBlogPals, and was so moved by its simplicity and directness.
Third of all, I'm lovin' your blog, and this is where I choose to comment. You may not need to hear this-- it may be old, old news to you-- but I too have an ex who has moved in with his girlfriend, though mawwiage doesn't seem to be on the agenda just yet (he and I were married 23 years all told). But: here's the thought that brought me through the tunnel into the light. I don't (didn't) want the story of my life to be "S left me and I never got over it." I have (had) a better life than that; God had (has) a better plan for me than that. Same is true for you, I know it in my bones.
Happy Thanksgiving. Keep blogging!
Blessings, Mags
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