Sidebar #2: The Blog

She still has the blog, the one she copied and pasted from the old Myspace page.
Just in case.
Just in case she should ever forget why she despises him - why she will never, ever return a call, a letter, a card, an email,...anything.

He had the balls to make her public.
She had the balls to keep it private and use it as a reminder to keep herself in check.

It wasn't that he was anything extraordinary in the grand scheme of things; it was that she felt sorry for him - felt sorrier for maintaining the compassion a little too long, a little after it was likely decent.

She received a card once, the old-fashioned way. It read something like "Happy Birthday. Hope your life is better without me in it."

That was just like him.

Next time she sent a package of his stuff, she'd COD him.
By the way, her note would read: The shirt really was in the Dumpster.

Years later, she has no regrets and no longer wonders if he is okay. She imagines he is; off fighting his fight and writing down everything - using everyone as a character rather than living in the now.

Some people are like that, you know.
They move through life attracting friendships and suffering them long enough, thoroughly enough, to sit down later and write about it.