Yesterday I did something I have never done before. I deleted one of my own posts. I realized I had actually upset someone by writing it. I didn’t stick to the I’d rather be nice than be right motto I’m working on. I realized this only after I wrote it, published it, and was faced with the consequences.
When you complain somewhere about a restaurant or a business they ignore you in the worst case scenario. Sometimes they will at least apologize and if you get lucky they will comp you a meal or send you a freebie of some sort. An ex will usually be pissed at you for being called out so now it’s the best case scenario if he ignores you. In worst case scenario you will be unfriended on Facebook and called the crazy one in any further conversations your name pops up. What you will never get is a satisfying explanation or apology from an ex for anything that he may have done or not done. It just happens and things do and that means usually it is just time to move on. Because in the end it doesn’t matter whether you had a valid point or not, a personal blog is not Hello Peter for ex-boyfriends. At least not for the ones you still care about.
I have a hard time with moving on, so naturally I would be upset when any ex of mine has a new girlfriend and it’s okay to be upset for a moment. Not okay is for me to pretend he owes me an explanation or apology for it. He doesn’t and at the end of the day I just have to admit the fact that it upsets me that he has moved on and not that he didn’t tell me about.
So there. I admit the real reason why I was such a bitch yesterday.
After a horrible day, I took myself home, nursed with red wine and pasta, and finally deleted the post. Then I went to bed and for the first time in almost a year took out my diary and started writing. Realizing that there is a right place to write and complain and whine about all the things I needed to in order to feel better. Funny enough the last time I wrote something in my journal, I wrote about how it’s so much easier to be angry than to be sad. Like attack seems the best defence. Boy, I may have been right with that, but the whole idea is quite wrong. It may have just cost me a friend.
Today the world seems different and I blame it equally on last night’s revelations and this morning’s sunshine. So I thought I should sneak in a giraffe just for good measure. Don’t roll your eyes, this one is special. My Dad scanned it for me and emailed it. A picture my brother drew of my Mum and me when I was just born. I guess he thought it appropriate to picture us as giraffes because my Mum’s neck is really long and I was just huge (59cm!!!) in general. So now you know why I had no choice from the start but to love giraffes!