Crap

It’s two in the morning as I write this because I can’t sleep. And the reason why I can’t sleep is because just before going to bed, I finally realized why our new tenants’ names mean something to me.

            They’re my ex-boyfriend’s sister and brother-in-law. 

You know how there are some exes that, even though it didn’t work out, there’s nothing sour about your relationship? You can have pleasant conversations at parties or if you run into each other at the grocery store? Well, this ex is not like that. It’s not like we’re antagonistic toward each other, in fact we haven’t even talked to each other in eight years, but there’s just…a lot of hurt from what happened. On both sides of it.  

            All of this might not be a big deal if it weren’t for the fact that I’m the landlady while Dad and Eliza are away. So if anything breaks or they don’t pay their rent or something happens where I have to go over there and take care of things as the landlady, then I will need to come face-to-face with them. Also, I will see them at least once next week when they move in. 

            To make it even more stressful, I don’t know if the new tenants even know that their brother and I dated. Which might seem weird, but while we were dating, they were on a big adventure in Asia, trying to find themselves and learn about Eastern culture in hopes of finding balance in their lives. As part of that, they cut themselves off for one year with contact from the West, and said only to contact them if someone had died or been maimed. We were over before they got back. 

            So on the one hand, maybe they won’t know. It all depends on whether or not this ex-boyfriend of mine told them what happened or not. At worse, they hate me for a relationship that ended badly eight years ago; at best they have no idea what happened and I feel awkward about it.

            If I know him, my ex, at all, he didn’t tell them. Between his pride and the circumstances, I’m sure he wouldn’t want to admit what happened between us to anyone. He probably tries to forget it whenever he remembers us, with an angry shake of the head as he wonders why we were ever together.

            But what if he changed, or I didn’t know him like I thought, and he did tell them? I hate conflict, and even just the potential of this can of worms opening stresses me out. 

I’ll keep you updated on it, but I hope there’s nothing more to talk about on this subject.