He told me that this guy, Cookie, hated me. That Cookie casually mentioned that he hated me. I thought it was fucked up, and a little bit random, that he told me this. I thought Cookie and I were cool! It really ruined my night, the night he told me. And it made me not want to get in touch with Cookie in the intervening months.
(But I totally thought about it. About just NEUTRALIZING the SITUATION with the following fantasy e-mail:
I heard that you hate me or something. It really bummed me out, because I think you're really rad. I hope I haven't done anything to offend you. If I have, please know that it was unintentional, and let me know if there's something I did to upset you. If you want me to leave you alone or whatever, I respect that, too, but I want you to know that I have no ill will towards you.
I totally didn't send that e-mail. Instead I let the "knowledge" that my friend Cookie hates me be totally "true" and I got really bummed out about it for a long time. At least a couple of months.
Anyway over the weekend I ran into both Cookie and the person who told me Cookie hated me. Cookie doesn't. Cookie was actually really sweet and told me he missed me and asked where I'd been, and invited me to take the aerobics class he teaches. So the person who told me Cookie hated me was lying, to get me on his side. Or whatever.
And this should be proof that maybe everyone I think hates me doesn't actually hate me. Right? This should clear things up. This should make it a little bit easier to focus on something else. It ought to.
The world is such a big and beautiful place. It is literally: unknowable. Literally a mystery.
The inside of my head is, by contrast, really fucking small.
I wish we all had better compasses.