It was the middle of the workday and I had to be at an appointment by 4pm in the downtown area. You know how it is trying to find a parking space in any downtown area at that hour, I was doing the praying thing and ended up at a stoplight right near one of the radio stations I used to call home. I’m sitting there staring almost into space, not really looking at anyone or anything in particular, lost in thought about when I worked there.
You know how it feels when you think someone is staring at you? I first looked up at the traffic light, still red, and then I see him standing at the corner. Still handsome. Combing his hair differently. Hands locked with a beautiful blonde, she was taller than him, and he looked really happy. Now I didn’t expect that he would run over to me or say anything to me but did I expect him to turn all colors of red as he caught my eye for a millisecond? No. He then turned away and kept his face down.
We were friends for a very short time and got along very well but the timing was off to get into anything serious. So no goodbyes were said, maybe there’d be a chance to try again in the future. So when I saw his face again and I didn’t even get what we call the ‘Mexican Hello’ – where you just lift your head as if giving a saludo with your eyes, I felt sad. But wait, not in the sad that you might think, I wasn’t thinking in “what if” mode, I was sad because we were friends and it was pretty apparent that he didn’t want to be my friend, at least not in that moment, likely never.
During the couple of intense years where I, or anyone who had any connection to me, received, almost daily, tons of texts, phone calls, postings on social media, emails sent out to colleagues and superiors from Joe in his insane rage; this man was targeted and harassed almost as much as I was.
Pinche collateral damage maldito. I hate it. No one deserved to have to put up with pendejadas from such a misguided and emotionally unstable person. I’ve never expected EVERYone to always give me the benefit of the doubt, everyone’s situation is different. However, I do know that this man had to change jobs at least once and I know that it is not easy to clear up a professional reputation after this type of nightmare…knowing this makes me sad. I’ve also had to accept that this will likely not be the last time I have to deal with the after-effects of this past insanity. There is no way that I could have stopped this madness is what I have to keep telling myself.
So once the light turned green and the Jeep moved forward, I could now feel his eyes on me, I did not try to meet his gaze, I tried very hard to keep my head up, to say a little prayer for his happiness, and, more important, I did not look back.