Dead to me

I’ve only recently realized that my dark superpower may be my ability to make people invisible.  And not invisible in a good way, either.

Hurt my feelings?  You’re invisible.

Offend me?  I can’t see you.

Betray me?  I’m blind in your general direction.

The worst thing is that this superpower seems entirely reasonable to me.

It’s sort of a no-fuss, no-muss way to live, except for the immaturity and ridiculousness of it.  I believe in the power of forgiveness, in the necessity of forgiveness, but if you bug me?  You’re dead to me.

I can ignore you for the whole rest of my life, if need be.  The Silent Treatment and I go way back.

I’m not saying it’s good.

But I am good at it.

I realized this over the weekend–the one dotted with dank pools of self-doubt and jealousy–when I explained to someone my 8-year old’s issues with another girl at school.  My daughter has no patience for someone who has crossed her.  She does not forgive and forget . . . she remembers and continues the feud.

It’s sort of vaguely amusing when you’re 8-years old, but when you are forty-five and you erase people from your future if they disappoint or disagree with you it’s not at all cute.

Although it’s better than punching people in the nose.

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Dead to me

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