interference

I thought we were past of all the past. I thought we could deal with anything. I thought we'd figured it all out.

As for them, they became peripheral, part of the landscape, part of the deal, but not the deal breaker. We'd see them periodically, but with some angst, especially for me. That I've seen them less than the fingers on my hand in the last year makes it a smaller pill to swallow.

Somehow, maybe because I've loosened up a little and decided that being friends with them didn't matter anymore, that it wasn't ever gonna happen, we actually have had some good times. There was that grown-upish dinner night, and the fourth of july party where all our friends convened, and there was that birthday party we had, but she wasn't there. Most of them when I see them it's bad. I hate it. But I tolerate it, them, him and them, because that's what people have to do. That's what I have to do to love him.

Lately, it's been getting harder for me to make nice. Maybe because we've been seeing them more often. Maybe because the mere mention of her name makes us rabid, to the death fighters.

The last one was the worst yet, and I really felt like she wasn't even trying to make nice either, which made me want to give up my half of the charade. It made me want to decree that she's not welcome in my house. Ever. I didn't tell him that, just let that fester inside. I figured, I was snarky from having my day off snatched away from me. I figured, she was bitchy cause she had to put the cat down.

Now it's another weekend, another day, another opportunity to be the better woman. And I was up for it, to a point, until he picked a fight with me about it. And then he did something was was out of line. Deciding that I needed a personal invitation, he asked her to call me and invite me. What the fuck? I'd just told him I hate her. And now she's involved. If I don't go, she knows something is up. If I go, I have to pander to these fucks all night.

So I say fuck it, I don't care anymore. It's time for war and truth. At the end of it, there may not be an us, but at least I never have to see that face of hers again.