The Aftermath?
Today I tried to focus on the positive. Putting Henry and Sarah in contact was a beautiful thing. Two people who have both lost so much, but through that shared loss have so much in common, and the means to help the other's heart. And Danielle, she is the cutest. Such a sweet little angel. That is a family that needs to be together. Even Oliver thought what I did putting them in touch was a good thing.
Alright, I can't take it. I must unpack the rest of the day. Most specifically, the parts of the day with Oliver in it. Was it Marcus Aurelius who said, 'The first rule is to keep an untroubled spirit. The second is to look things in the face and know them for what they are.' My spirit is troubled, so maybe looking things in the face might help me to see clearly? I hope so.
I will admit, I was a little trepidatious coming to work today. I really had no idea what had happened last night and was equally unsure how Oliver would behave. Well maybe I was sure and didn't want to deal with Oliver in full snark. So I did the mature thing, the professional thing. I tried my absolute best to hide from him. If he entered the DLO, I found a reason to leave it. It was ridiculous and childish, but there you go. If anyone had been looking in to the DLO, they would have been wondering what on earth was going on, perhaps some IRL version of Pacman? It all went well until we almost ran in to one another. I was sure he was safely out of the office in Human Resources. Come to think of it, why was he in HR? Was he quitting? Was he checking how much leave he had in order to go to Paris for a wife-finding vacation? Was he checking I hadn't quit? I admit, the thought did cross my mind.
So, we ran in to one another, and did a dance almost as awkward as the way last night's finished. I decided that as I was probably going to receive a generous helping of sarcasm, attack was the best means of defence and let Mr O'Toole become the recipient rather than the giver. I may have told him that if he stood corrected, it was a red-letter day. I wasn't really going to deface his calendar, but he was certainly protective of it.
Today was like some cheesy Hallmark movie, trying to get all the 'feels' into a single installment. I travelled through anxiety, to chagrin, to annoyance, to hope, to sadness, to joy, to forgiveness ….. and then to the delightful shores of melancholy. Oliver cancelled our dance tonight. I wasn't only a stand in for his eloping dance partner, but also for the ever-present but perennially-absent Mrs O'Toole. Oliver only wanted to learn to dance to make her happy. I guess I knew that something like this was probably behind it, but why did hearing the truth sting as much as it did?
I know I shouldn't have told him we were good together, but somehow it just slipped out. Hearing him agree didn't help. Oliver seems to be getting very good at walking away from me. Maybe Denver isn't the place for me. Should I have visited HR?