An Ode to Me?

I'm home sick today—not to be mistaken for homesick, which is a different beast altogether, no, I am home sick, in bed, runny nose, sore throat, feverish, et. al.—which, for me, means trawling the internet... and, via a long circuitous track of poking around, I happened upon the blog of an old boyfriend's new girlfriend. Now, that's hardly fair, as we were only together for one hot minute years ago, and they've been together since... as in, exactly since. But either way, it's been a long time and I only felt fond feelings upon seeing her face. We were friends once upon a time, after all. But then I read her blog and felt a little jump and a ping upon finding myself featured in it. She was polite enough to have changed my name, but it was strange to hear her story of one of my first dates with this man.

She even included a photo of her "general memory of what [I] was like, though perhaps a little less pink & blue and more maroon & navy blue. With pearls. And an apron":


First: Uh, no... just, no.

Second: I'm not sure if I should be flattered or offended, or maybe just plain weirded out.

Let me assure you that I do not (nor have I ever) resemble(d) either of the ladies pictured above. I did, briefly, have a pair of white kitten heels I was rather fond of, but that's about as far as one could go.

It is strange on all sorts of levels to be featured—as the antagonist, nonetheless—in someone else's love story. I was the force that needed to be overcome, the obstacle laid out at the beginning of the story, just so the reader knows what they're in for.

That's right reader. I'm what you're in for.

It turned out, though, that it was almost fun, if wholly disconcerting, to read another angle of a story of my life, be reminded that the stories of my life are the stories of others' lives too. As a matter of fact, maybe it felt good precisely because of that disconcertion. Sometimes it's good to feel humbled. Sometimes it's nice to be reminded that you're somebody's 'other', the supporting role—sometimes even the character the audience isn't supposed to like—in somebody else's play.

And, you know, I'm pretty happy it turned out the way it did. They sound happy. I know I'm happy, and I'm feeling generally pleased and pretty damn lucky in regard to matters of the heart these days.

So hey, thanks for the shout out, lady. I wish you only the best.