The funniest thing happened this week… someone with whom I’ve been feuding called to say that she was sorry. She said, more than once, that I had been right all along. She brought up all the nuances of our battle, and point-by-point, admitted that she had been rude, obnoxious, mean-spirited, and denigrating.
Our fight has gone on a long time, and everyone I know has heard about it in great detail. Great detail. Of course they were all in my court. They’re MY friends, after all. But I can see the dazed look that comes over their faces when I bring it up.
So this call was both out-of-the-blue, and something I had daydreamed about many times. Driving in the car, I would imagine how I might run into her at the supermarket, and as we perused the Oreos, I would tell her everything I was thinking and I would see the light go on in her head. I would bring up each perceived slight. I would imitate her southern twang and she would hear how her tongue could cut you. "Oh my god," she would exclaim in dazzled amazement, "you are soooo right." She would fall to her knees in gratitude.
And here it was, my daydream come to life. The more she talked the less I had to say. She told me that I was right so often that I started thinking I was dreaming. I was so disarmed by her honesty that I had the desire to say, “No, no, no hard feelings. It was half my fault anyway.”
Except it wasn’t. Oh please, I know what you’re thinking, and yes, I definitely could have handled it better. I could have taken a breath before I shot off those emails. I could have made sure that I never answered her emails when I'd been drinking. I could have tried to walk in her shoes. I could have... blah blah blah.
The truth is, she was wrong. She did terrible things, all in the name of "what needed to be done". And while I'm a big enough person to forgive her, I must say that I am basking in that most wonderful feeling; being on the other side of an apology.