It took a couple days for me to get the courage up to write this post.
Germany technically replied to my email Saturday, but I’ve been dwelling and dodging and playing that ostrich-head-in-the-sand that I do so well.
Yay, I’m clairvoyant. Texas said she wouldn’t upset because we’re best friends and best friends are supportive. But my tummy-guts-feeling wins again. She’s pissed.
She said I’m trash.
I’ve never had anyone call me that. Not even when Texas probably thought something close to that last year when she was angry we got pregnant. But she never called us anything like that.
And to have Germany call me that….
I was a mess Saturday night. And I was very ill most of Sunday- at least partially psychosomatic I’m sure.
It’s sort of surprising who first brought me out of a thought process that was going to turn self-damaging. Army. I know, right? Mr. Emotionally Void and Unavailable. It’s like he’s a different person since we stopped living together.
This was our text exchange:
Me: Well, Germany thinks I’m a she-devil that’s ruined Jeff. it’s a surprisingly hard blow to have a best friend think you’re trash.
Him: What happened?
Me: I emailed her briefly, updating her on my life, like I normally do, and apparently now I’m horrible. I dunno. You don’t think I’m garbage, do you? Is that why you didn’t ever really want more than FWB?
Him: I do not think you are garbage. And the FWB thing is because of me and what I’m capable of. Not you.
Obviously not some amazingly romantic talk, but at least encouraging. And then Shadow Dragon and Puppy were nice enough to watch a movie with me Saturday evening (“Identity”, appropiately, lol) and that helped a lot.
But still….a best friend calling you trash is hard to swallow.
Maybe I am trash and I should just accept it.