I cry the hardest when a beautiful woman is kind to me. I cry even harder when she is gracious and patient. That’s also when I avoid, deflect, and stay professional even more.
What is her angle? What does she know? What does she want? What is she trying to take?
I won’t let it sneak on me. Fool me once, twice, you know how they say, only we are on time seventy-eight.
With Colleen, I became more stoic, less personal, and more distant. She still closed the distance every time.
And I hated her for it.
She was the most striking woman I ever saw in person, and I once saw Michelle Obama. Really.
Until one day, she became my target, and I verbally took out a lifetime of shame on her in a public meeting. I became the problem.
It took me three years to find the right words to apologize, own my part, and complete step nine.
But a part of my still thinks she was trying to pull something.
And another part wonders if I knew how to accept her kindness if I would be waking up next to her with rings on both our fingers.
Colleen, I know it’s my fault, but you will be the subject of my next book.
Don't forget this old post.
Trust is the most precious commodity, beyond time. And I don't blame you one bit for guarding it closely. You must be a helluva poker player. The ski mask probably helps