Last week, in the Napoleon saga, we had ended our “courtship” and decided we were done dating.
Well, I had decided we were done dating. He had decided to avoid me – because that’s a super grown up thing to do.
So, as I mentioned, I started spending none of my time with Napoleon and had replaced the void in my calendar with “Luke.” I was having a hell of a good time with an old friend who I felt really comfortable around. I was spending a lot of time on the water, and at dinners and drinking and generally taking in all that Florida has to offer.
I am only pointing all this out because I wasn’t missing Napoleon. If my apprehension to cuddle with him wasn’t indicative of not having real feelings for him, my lack of missing him certainly was. Provided, it could be because I was occupying my time and not “wallowing” about it, but I’m not really a wallower… plus, he hadn’t played a big enough role in my life to warrant thinking about him much after his exit from my world.
So a few weeks later (yes weeks,) imagine my surprise to see pictures of Napoleon pop up in my news feed on a vacation in the Keys…with a girl.
Not just a girl. A girl I knew. A girl I was friendly with. A girl I had hung out with a number of times in the past.
You may think my feelings were hurt, but you’d be wrong. I giggled. I screen shot it and sent it to a friend with a caption that said “well, she’s more than welcome to try to dodge that same bullet.”
Shortly thereafter I ran into the two of them together… by “chance?” and continued to reconfirm that I was not bothered by this development. A few weeks later is a long enough lead time between two girls (even if they’re friends-ish.)
Then something weird happened. The girl in question started showing up in my Facebook news feed a lot. Like, a LOT. More than she ever had before. I don’t know how the algorithms for Facebook work or whatever, but I guess clicking on one picture she posted weeks prior meant I wanted to see everything there was to see. Including her dinner plans and whatnot.
After a while he stopped popping up in her pictures and posts. But she continued to be a permanent staple in my news feed. And, as it turned out, we had very similar interests. We binge watched the same television shows. We liked the same foods. We went to a lot of the same bars/restaurants.
So I decided to become better friends with her.
Because I’m a little sick in the head. But also because she is/was pretty awesome and I missed being around her back in the day when we used to be more friendly.
After a few missed opportunities for planned outings and a crapton of texting about everything from Orange is the New Black to hair colors, we finally made plans to get together for happy hour.
We met at a local spot with an additional person or two in tow and had a wonderful time ordering half priced appetizer after half priced appetizer. We drank whiskey and wine. We talked about everything until people from our group started falling out until it was just the two of us.
We were pretty lubed up with alcohol and warm fuzzies from having spent the last 2 hours together rekindling our friendship when I couldn’t stand it anymore…
“So are we ever going to talk about the fact that we both “dated” Napoleon?”
Yes, I did air quote the word dated. No I did not call him Napoleon to her face. That nickname was created for the purpose of this blog… but you know…
As two girls who “dated” the same guy are want to do, we obviously rehashed our timelines and likes/dislikes about him. Anyone want to take a random guess at when they started hanging out? You may think you know… find out if you’re right next Monday. 🙂