(this is annie)


It seems that the more you want to avoid someone, the more likely you are to run into that person. Take, for instance, the time JC and I came to San Francisco for my job interview. While getting dressed that morning, I thought, "What will I do if we run into Phil?" Anxious gears started turning before I told myself, "Self, don't be paranoid and ridiculous. It's a big city. Not gonna happen." I felt proud of myself for rejecting my neuroses.

So of course, we ran into him at the park. Exceedingly awkward conversation ensued.

Yesterday, after spending months wondering when he'd bump into his gargoyle of an ex-girlfriend, a good friend of mine saw her. The encounter was uncomfortable but not traumatic, he said. He handled it without even an inkling of drama, and I savored the idea of her realizing how much better he's doing without her. (I know that seems nasty, but if you purposely and remorselessly wound someone I love, you've earned my disdain.)

Fortunately, there aren't many people I would like to avoid in this town. Four out of 808,976 isn't bad. And yet! A few weeks ago, while hobbling home in the dark, I was approaching a crosswalk when my right crutch slipped. I wobbled, saved myself from falling, and straightened myself just in time to see a member of that quartet zoom past me at 40 mph. Nice metaphor, huh? I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Wound up doing both.

And last night, not five minutes after hanging up with aforementioned friend, I saw one more member of the Avoidance Posse. Instead of wanting to flee, though, I just smiled from afar and hoped that he was doing well. Funny how these sorts of things can provoke the opposite response of what you feared they would.

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    it's anniet at gmail.


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