It'll be tough. But I'll try
This is difficult. You can laugh, but among my many flaws, I have a hard time letting go of anger at people I feel have slighted me in the past.
It's very easy for me to say or write that we should let bygones be bygones and not to sweat the small stuff. But when the small stuff and the bygones are the fruit of personal interactions they're tougher to forget. What I mean is I can forget the words of a dead horse, AKA a talk radio host, 'cause I don't know that dude. But if you slighted me one on one? I will hold onto that like the worst movie stereotype of a Sicilian gangster.
I say all that 'cause Mrs. B has a friend, or former friend, or something - not sure what to call her, who used to hate me. It's possible she still does. But I won't flatter myself. I'm sure she has better stuff to think about these days. But I swear, in the beginning of our (mine and Mrs. B's) relationship, this woman bashed me mercilessly. She called me things that would have bruised the ego of just about any man with a pulse. To be fair she thought at one time that I had done the same to her. But she was wrong, the unfortunate victim of a gossiper who had led her astray. If she'd come directly to me way back then she would have figured out that the gossiper was a jealous loser and that I wouldn't have talked about her, 'cause I don't do gossip. Gossip is like chronic lying. Difficult, I've heard. A headache. You have to keep your stories up and remember which one you told last. You have to constantly insert red herrings so that the subject of the gossip doesn't trace it back to you. It's like playing telephone. And I hate telephone.
So anyway, a few days ago James-hater reached out to Mrs. B. And over the past few days or so they have been reuniting, smoothing out old bumps in their relationship, reconciling, etc. And you might think I'd be angry or pouty about it, but I'm not. Old friendships should not be destroyed over a fit of temper or two. Not worth it. They were friends for a really long time. And being here in Florida, Mrs. B doesn't see a lot of her old friends from the home state very often. Making peace with one of them is a good thing, I say.
And I'll earn good (this includes compassionate and understanding) husband points by encouraging this reunion...unless, of course, this ends up turning into a Thelma & Louise thing.
It is inevitable as the weekend progresses that I will grab the house phone without looking at the caller ID and it'll be the friend on the other line. Or I'll see Mrs. B's cell phone ringing and I'll yell out to her that her phone is ringing and should I get it. She'll say yes. And it'll be the friend on the other line. I will have to talk to this woman.
And when I do, I'm gonna keep it friendly...I think. I mean, I will. I'm pretty sure. Maybe.