Subconscious Consciousness

I saw him in the bar with his friend. To ignore or not to ignore? I thought I would continue the tradition of acting like he didn't exist as I knew he would in return, but this time was different. He looked awful. I could tell he was drunk, possibly more drunk than I had ever seen him when we were together. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He was positively leering over these young girls in the bar, wandering around, trying to connect with someone...anyone. His hair was dull and he even had some dried snot on his face. I was disgusted. His friend looked rather listless and did nothing to prevent him from acting so pitifully.

And then it happened. We made eye contact. Instantly his face lit up and he bounded over to me as if we were old friends. It had been months. We never spoke one word to each other. No texts, phone calls, e-mails. Blocked on Facebook, Instagram, all social media. He practically didn't exist. We both had new partners in our lives.

How easily the irreplaceable can be replaced.

I sheepishly said hi. My friend stared at me incredulously. He leaned over me and told me I looked great. I knew I did, and thanked him, but could not return the compliment. I was horrified. I wanted to tell him he needed to go to the restroom to at least take care of his face, but just couldn't pluck up the courage. I knew something major must have transpired. We engaged in the regular small talk. My suspicions were correct. He had been dumped. He was all alone and single in the world and reduced to the old, beer bellied, creeping barfly that stood before me. His friend finally chimed in; he usually ignored me in public, too. However, being the most amiable and social person I know, I graciously spoke to both of them and was, as I was accustomed, the center of attention. We had a few drinks and then it was over. My friend and I took our leave and we left the two men to their own devices.


Then I woke up.

I believe my subconscious is trying to give me closure. That moment where you can truly say, I'm done with you, you mean nothing to me anymore. But how can you close the door when you've swept everything under the rug? The mound of dirt keeps getting bigger, you postulate and hypothesize about what happened, you never really know the truth. I'm not sure what is better: not knowing, or knowing it all. One thing I do know is, it helps to let it out.

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