h1

confronting hope

July 24, 2007

Now, I will admit I didn’t think I’d have anything to write about today. Nothing very interesting has happened of late (not that I’m complaining at the lack of drama and depression), but today life tossed me a bone. This isn’t  apost about hope, it’s a post about Hope.

Hope is a chick I dated in high school. She was good friends with the ex back then, and ever since me and her got together has had a look of horror any time either of us has run across her. Hope is a liar, or at least was. And by liar I mean chronic liar. And not exactly small things either. She once said I got her pregnant, despite us never having sex. She then bolstered this incorrect tale by saying she had a miscarriage. Stretching it even further, she claimed to have called a doctor about it who told her to basically “Take two Tylenol and call me in the morning”.

All sorts of high school drama, of which one would hopefully grow out of eventually. Not her. Passing while driving, I would laugh as she concocted a horrified look and sped away. Me and the ex ate at a place she worked as a hostess to receive the look again, though she did her best to be pleasant and hide it.

This morning at Starbucks we crossed paths again, but she didn’t run off, amazingly. I recognized her instantly, but knowing past run ins I said nothing and prepared my coffee. I am not some monster that revels in making others uncomfortable, after all. She started to leave, but then turned and said something I couldn’t hear. I smiled and said hey, which was met with “I thought that was you by your voice.” I do have a sexy voice not easily forgotten. “How’s your wife?”

I looked at Old Roommate, laughed, and said “I have a wife?” How would she know me and the ex are no longer together? Our social circles do not intersect. She apologized, various niceities were exchanged, and she left with a “It was nice seeing you.” I agreed until she left, in which case I revealed “I lied. It wasn’t.” What I can say is there’s a certain amount of satisfaction in running across an ex while feeling especially put together and good looking, even moreso when they look like a shit. Not that she was ever especially attractive.

Is that poor of me? Perhaps a little petty, but at the same time I have two schools of thought about people in general. I either like you or I don’t care about you. I also always make sure people know which school of thought they fall under. Despite that, I try to remain polite even to people I don’t care for much. I’m sure the ex will have a story or two about this, as well.

Was this a significant meeting? No, but it did give me an opportunity to talk about something I never have on here. Her squeaky voice, however, can still piss me off. That’s not exclusive just to hers, though.

At the end of the day, it’s rare for me to run in to people I knew in high school, all those years so far gone now. Maybe I’ll write about that sometime, but I gurantee it’s as boring as my life is now.

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