Hating People

I truly hate rude people. Hate them. What I hate even more is I let some people just crush my soul. Deeply.

It was a long day at work yesterday. First, I worked 8-5 at my normal job. Then 5-10 waitressing. Of course it was raining, Friday and busy as hell.

Before it got busy I was doing my side and letting the other waitress have some of the tables as hers wasn’t busy yet. She asked if I had a guy which I said yes as I glanced out the window.  Coming in were the douche’s mom, stepdad and aunt. I simply told her she could definitely have the next table no matter where they sat. Then we thankfully got slammed.

They sat in her section. Where they could watch me the whole time. Not a word. Not a smile. Nothing. Occasionally, I could hear them “she’s pretty bad even though she comes from a good family”. “When you tip make sure it doesn’t go to HER  and the other girl gets it”. FUCK YOU. I’m not even your damn waitress, I’m not taking your money. I continued to just run my ass off during this and treat my customers as I would any other day. Ignoring them, though I could hear the occasional dig.

Then, time to pay – Of course Monica is busy and I take the til. Because I am capable of being a pleasant adult. His mom and aunt kept their backs to it the whole time but stood RIGHT there. Stepdad pays – I nicely ask how his food was. Fine. I asked how he has been – twice – incase he couldn’t hear me. Nothing. Nothing at all. Finally, a “just fine”. Not a how are you, how are the kids, simply nothing. Like they didn’t even know who I was. Even my crabby customers are nicer than them and say more when they pay.

I shouldn’t let it bother me. At all. Yet, I was crushed.

His mom’s a piece of shit. Yet, I’d always loved his stepdad. I’ve been the saddest the whole time over losing contact with him. Never in a million years did I guess he’d treat me so coldly too. So cold. These people are in their 70s and 80s. Yet acted ruder than my teens.

By the time they left I was holding back the tears. Finished what I needed to and quickly smoked where I broke down in full tears I just couldn’t stop.

How can you just act like that to someone you considered your family for 14 years? Not even the decency to be pleasant? Not talk shit? Maybe skip my work when I’m obviously working if you’ll be like that?

It just makes me so sad. I loved his stepdad. I was always nice to his mom. I spent over a week sitting in a hospital while his stepdad fought for his life – being the Medical POA per his request as I knew the questions to ask – 8am – 8pm. Exhausted. Quizzing doctors. Taking notes. I made every holiday meal for years while dealing with their son’s evil behavior. Made the birthday meals. Bought the gifts. Did the favors.  I made their life as enjoyable and normal as possible while I was broken inside half the time.

THEY would tell me the awful things their son did to them too. His stepdad always told me I took too much, cared how I and the kids were, said how he needed to change. His mom always just quizzed me on his substance use, his outbursts and told me how awful he was, how she was so sorry as she was sure I was walking on eggshells and he needed to change. They KNOW how bad it was, at least partially. They know how volatile my life was. They know much of the abuse he caused. Yet, still treat me like it’s my fault I left and chose to get divorced to save my soul.

My daughter and friend both said – Stepdad couldn’t talk to you as he’d have to deal with his wife. Maybe true, but why come in at all. Just to torture me some more? Probably true. His moms just as narcissistic and messed up as he is I’ve slowly learned over the years.

Needless to say, I finally got off work and cried the whole drive home. I shouldn’t let it bother me. I shouldn’t. But it still hurts. It just hurts that people can treat others like that. It hurts to lose the relationship I thought was real with his stepdad. I’ve been sad I wouldn’t get to see him more. Never did I think he’d just be cold towards me. Never. Guess I know where I stand now. I’m dead to them – except to gossip and talk shit about – I just need to convince myself I don’t care and let it go.

Then I went to hang out and have a few drinks. I was sure I looked fine again. Fake it til you make it. Right. My old high school friend was in town again and we started talking. After just a few sentences he says, can I ask you something – have you been crying. I asked why he’d even ask and if my makeup was messed up. No, it’s just your eyes. They look kind of glossy today. Like looking at you I see sad, hurt eyes tonight, not like last time. All I could do was smile, thank him for caring and tell him somedays life is honestly too much.

Because really, life really is too much somedays.

I need to suck it up. Take a deep breath. Brush it off. Move on.

I just wish it didn’t make me sad and I didn’t care. The hardest thing about my divorce isn’t the divorce itself, but learning who I can really trust, who ever gave a damn about my feelings and losing people I truly thought I cared about and would do anything for. The list gets shorter daily. It’s about quality tho – not quantity.

I care and love to a fault. It may be my biggest strength and weakness. All in one. Finding the good in people who never deserved the good to be found.