I burned through six years of my life and well over $23,000 in student loans. I used to have a folder 3 inches thick of rejection letters.
Quiet evening watching the sunset, reflecting on mistakes, lately which involve a) getting offended too easily, something I’m quite critical of in others, and b) hitting send when I took something someone said the wrong way.
My facebook profile is supposedly set to private. I follow about 80 or so people. But sometimes I interact with others who have public profiles, and that’s when things usually go horribly wrong. I probably should only follow other people who have their profiles set to private.
Anyway, I’m not exactly sure what I said, when my irrational outrage trigger tripped, the post is no longer visible to me. But I know I messed up big time.
So, I want to thank you, my friend, if I may still call you that, for the many laughs we had together, before I smucked it all up, and created a likely irreversible separation of our paths. I always counted myself incredulously fortunate that you took the time to talk to me, to like my whimsical, nonsensical posts. I can’t tell you how much silly giggling was occurring on my side of our interactions, and I’ll miss that terribly, but, hey, I know I crossed a line, and I can’t blame you for keeping your distance.
Edit: I just noticed that a facebook explanation I had typed up was set to “Custom”, meaning that only one person, and not the person who I felt particularly deserves an explanation and apology did not see it. While I’m still pretty embarrassed by the whole affair, I don’t feel like making that full facebook post public. But there is one part of that explanation that is at the core of why I reacted the way I did: It appeared to me that a stranger was posting somewhat personal information about me. With hindsight, it was just typical light-hearted teasing of the kind a grown up would’ve handled with a snarky retort.
“…it turns out it was an an accidental autocorrect comment that triggered my reaction. I still remember staring at it, thinking “how does this person know this about me?”, and once that switch got flipped…”