Forging Affection

Do you remember that slut that called the police on us and I ended up in my red underwear OUTSIDE in front of them?

And then, when I sought my revenge?

Yeah?

Well, there's another update.

Over the last few months, being neighbors, we've seen each other quite a bit. We'd wave to one another and smile and it's been fine.

Although, when we first actually spoke a few months ago, after I offered the olive branch and she graciously accepted, the dialogue that followed was a little bizarre. Which I didn't find surprising.

She thanked us for bringing over the book and the rosemary and said that she cried when she read our note. She just thought it was really kind and lovely. And that was nice to hear. I could feel our differences blowing away into the wind.

However, sometimes in dialogue, as I'm sure you can occasionally relate, less is better. Because that "wind" can take the form of farts. Metaphorically speaking...

So then, she said that she had a Thank you card for us, but she couldn't seem to find our place to leave it at our doorstep. The police found it just fine that night, seeing how our number is beside the door, but she can't find it. Huh...That's peculiar, but again, not surprising.

She kept saying, "I just CAN'T seem to find it! I've looked a few times!"

Maybe she needs Braille? As though it vanishes and only our friends and family have the secret chant that makes it appear.

It really didn't bother me. I told her that her sentiment was enough and that was nice. And I meant that.

Then, she told me how she's a psychiatric nurse. And then inquired if we were Christians. When I told her that we weren't, she told me about this great church that she goes to. And that we should go too.

Funny, the last time I checked, WE were the ones extending the olive branch even though she appeared as the aggressive one. I suppose when it comes down to it, the aggressor is all perspective. But still, no matter. I didn't really need to argue and point any of this out. I had no point to prove to her.

Anyway, the farts have gone away and over the last few months we've talked a few times. And it's honestly been nice. She certainly has her issues, as we all do. And she is definitely a little quirky, as certainly am I. But, the inevitable thing that seems to happen the more people open up to one another has been happening...

The other day, I could tell she wanted to talk as she made her way over to me. It was a beautiful morning with a crystal clear blue sky and we were both out with our dogs. We ended up sitting near one another under a budding Sycamore on a little grassy knoll out in the common area.

She began talking about the trials of being a single Mom and the difficulties that she's facing with her teenage daughter.

She also talked about how proud she is of her son, a singer and musician, who happens to be this very talented guy:

She talked about the isolation that she feels being 2000 miles away from her family in Illinois and talked about maybe going back for the Summer. She greatly misses her sister. And I know the feeling...

She talked about lost dreams and growing older and how fast time goes by.

I tried to encourage her and told her that maybe a move back to Illinois, at least for a little while, might be in order to find her footing again. That there's nothing wrong with moving back and that it doesn't have to be forever if that's not what she wants.

Having grown up in Ohio, we have a lot in common. So, we talked about how much we miss thunder storms and fire flies. We talked about how much we miss a walk through the Autumn leaves or the Winter woods. We talked about daffodils, tulips and rhododendrons and the buzz of cicadas in the Summer.

And when we parted ways, I realized that we talked as though we were friends.

Which I suppose we are.