One of the more tedious (yet hilarious) parts of this project is digging through old emails and Google chats so I can round out all my stories, include specific details, and make sure I’m not forgetting anything. As I was doing that this morning, I came across the following email:
Dan told me that Lindsay told him that Ben told her that at my going away happy hour I told Ben’s friend’s girlfriend that him and Lindsay were dating.
This is like a game of Telephone gone wrong (but with vodka).
First of all – who CARES? I mean, is this really something I was stressing over? Erasing the fact that again, WHO CARES, I can’t believe I wasted any time at all worrying about something so asinine.
Even if I did or did not (and I am pretty sure I did not) out Dan & Lindsay’s relationship, they had no reason to keep it a secret. No one cared. The real cause of my stress was not wanting either Dan or Lindsay to be pissed at me, which is what I spent the rest of the e-mail stressing over.
This was back when I still wanted everyone to like me no matter what – now realizing that is not possible, I am rereading the email in disbelief.
Things I worried about back then were meaningless. I try to only let the truly important things stress me out now – for example, emailing Tad Hamilton after I’d had time to process what he did and to say everything I should have said on the phone, but didn’t (because I was sitting in my therapist’s office when I took the call and was also too upset to say ANYTHING).
The last line of his response back to me is like a dagger: You are fantastic Reva, and if you never talk to me again, my life is worse without you in it.
On the one hand – aww. But on the other, MUCH BIGGER hand, if that were true, would he really have gotten back together with his ex? I shouldn’t stress too much about this either – it’s done and over with. But being less than two weeks removed, I’m still sad, baffled, and upset.
As for Dan and Lindsay? Well, they never made it as a couple. They’ve both moved on. It’s my turn to do the same.
