One of the much younger librarians was recently married. I wasn’t invited.
It hurt my feelings.
Maybe she posted up an open invitation to everyone, but since I’m not at work, I missed it.
She also had three showers and I wasn’t invited to them either.
And most likely, I’ll never run into her again, since I’m retiring while I am still recovering from my upcoming surgery…but it bothers me.
I thought we were friends. I’m not as old as her mother. We were more than friendly and I thought it meant something.
I do know that she went to the weekly happy hour with the younger/young at heart people we work with and I wasn’t invited to those…and since I’m not a big drinker, so that only hurt my feelings a little….I might have dropped by, but I wouldn’t have stayed for more that a half drink.
And I’m HAPPY she is married, A year ago, she was in my office every day, crying about how she was never going to get married, never have a child, never have any money, never have any kind of life except plodding to the prison and plodding back. I gave her as much chipper-ish advice as I could. I’ve been there and it is the worst, especially with not one person on Earth who cares enough to have listened.
Well, I like to think maybe I get Brownie Points for that, because it fell far short of what I thought the kind of friendship we had.
So now, despite how hurt I am, I’ll still have to pretend to be so happy for her. AND I AM.I just wish I had been included.
I had a former friend who just cut me out of her life over a misunderstanding. She had her reasons, I guess. We’ll never repair our friendship, only because this isn’t the first time she’d done this.
I grew up in a home where this was the way my parent would control me.We’d go for year with not a word passing between us. My dad refused to speak to me for ten years. My mother would get mad at me, not speak to me for six or eight months, then out of the blue, start speaking again, only to get mad out of the blue.So it’s something I’m used to it.
These are things I accept. My life, outside of my four walls are filled with hot tempered people.
But just because I’m used to it, doesn’t make it easier to handle.
I just make sure I’m not the one who starts it.
And right about now. I’m getting just a little tired of people who cut me out and then wait for me to do some begging to get back into their good graces. If they are so ready to think the worst of me, maybe their graces aren’t so great.
I really think
that maybe I’m done begging.