I'd Like To Know Less
Ignorance is bliss, and entirely underrated.
Tonight my ex told me I needed to grow.
The fucking audacity.
“I’m getting picked up at 8.30pm,” he declared.
“Picked up?” I asked.
The new girlfriend.
“We might pop into mum’s place for a cuppa.”
Standing in my kitchen, I went from zero to about eighty-five.
“Might. Why say might, when what you mean is you’re going to? It’s infuriating!” I expressed.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll all have a lovely time,” I said with so much sarcasm, I even rolled my own eyes.
“You know how I feel about all this,” I pronounced. “You know I am not ready. You know I am not interested. Why are you insisting?”
I was so frustrated. Weeks earlier I’d been asked if I wanted to meet the new girlfriend.
“Slap me in the face a little harder,” was my reply.
I have no interest.
It’s a lot, all at once, and each week there seems to be something new to digest.
It can be incredibly difficult to be so easily replaced, in every facet, and to be so unconsidered throughout the entire process.
Something new I hadn’t thought about becomes a reality, and I am yet again thrown into a situation where I need to confront and process.
Someone else will now sit where I once used to at my in-laws, and that is going to take some time to get used to.