One of the traits that defines me as I am now - and something that is far different from what I used to be - is my penchant for saying aloud that which should probably not be said. Or written. A colleague laughed last week about my "Irish temper" and how she could picture me leaving DU: not only would I light a match and toss it over my shoulder before I had time to think about the consequence, but I'd probably spend at least a moment to pour some gasoline on the bridge as a I crossed it in my rage.
I'm not sure this is an improvement but it is a meaningful step sideways at the very least.
When we were coming back from San Antonio last weekend, a woman behind us in line to board the plane complained when Jamison joined me in said line - as if he were just jumping in front of her and not with me. As if one more person in front of her was somehow going to affect her boarding or any part of her life at all. Like she didn't have a seat waiting for her in particular. When she said to her companion, "I can't believe that guy just cut in line" I turned around and said, "but look how quickly you're getting over it." I wanted to add, "bitch" to the end of that but didn't. No need for overkill. I'm sick to death of people who think they can do whatever they like and that courtesy will dictate that I keep my mouth shut.
In short, there's a new sheriff in town and she's not taking shit in any form these days.
I told one of my students this semester - when he complained that my assignment was "stupid" - that he could come out the exact same way he came in and not to let the door hit him in the ass. When he backed down, I actually insisted that he leave anyway. Where I got this kind of gumption I haven't the faintest idea. But it feels kinda good.
So. Imagine me striking a match on my shoe right now. One of my friends, Jeni, had a boyfriend (now an ex) I've met a few times and I've always been pleasant to in the name of good manners and mostly for Jeni's sake. Even though I know what he's done to her. More than once. Like the unforgivable Cruciatus Curse in Harry Potter, there are some things you can't take back. No one gets to take comfort and freedom and security from another person's life on purpose and be forgiven. At least not by me.
He knows I know these things and yet he operates under some kind of assumption that because I didn't show up at his door after the last bout of violence with my brother's hockey team to play his head like a puck, that we're friends. Or at least friendly. I get messages and email and I can't possibly fathom why he would contact me as if we should keep in touch. He is an abuser, and abusers make sure that their reputations are solid. It's like having the last word: a woman leaves a man who abuses her and he makes sure that no one believes her because he appears to be such a nice guy. Before I knew what was going on with him and Jeni, he was nice. Came off as pretty cool and normal. They always do, but secretly they want to Just. Control. Everything.
Even more staggering, of course, is why he cares at all what I think of him. Why does my opinion matter - we've never been friends. He clearly doesn't know me, because if he did, he would know full well to stay as far away as possible because now that I don't have to be nice, I won't be. Some people will forgive the sin of violence against people you claim to love, but I won't. I refuse to absolve someone of this crime, particularly when inflicted on someone I love.
I don't know if Jeni's ex has hacked his way far enough to find my little blog here, but I kind of hope so. Dude: you're a fucking coward and stay the fuck away from me.
Burn, baby. Burn.
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