I see Natasha every day. We say hello, say a few things to one another and joke a little. It’s usually nice. I mean, it’s usually not too devastating and I feel proud that we can be friendly with each other. But today there was something standing between us. When I said good morning, she responded “Good morning” and kept walking.
“How are you doing?” I asked, trying to engage.
“I’m okay,” she said and disappeared around the corner.
My heart sank. She finally hates me, I thought to myself.
I usually have one visitor on this blog per day. I assume it’s Natasha because if my ex had a blog about her life I’d be tempted to check in every day. If that is the case, then she would’ve read my post about being on Tinder, which leads me to suspect she was probably upset about that. I get why she would feel that way.
When we crossed paths again an hour later I asked, “Hey. You’re doing ok?”
She gave a weak smile and said, “Yeah.” She reached out to touch my arm, without touching it and said, “How are you?”
“I’m good,” I smiled. I didn’t see her again that day.