Awkward

I'm sitting in the same room as my ex. And we're the only two people in here. And we're not talking. Yes, I have music on, and yes we are both on computers. But this remains, regardless, the sort of situation that one would consider awkward.

For a while now, I've prided myself on being the sort of person who does not feel awkwardness, does not experience this phenomenon that people so often try to avoid. But I'll be truthful here and say that yes, this is a generally awkward situation. I don't feel any odd tension in my stomach, but the sheer awareness of this moment is a cross between mildly entertaining and dreadfully unpleasant.

I don't hate this individual, but I don't willingly have contact, either. If it was up to me, I would have avoided this opportunity for contact entirely, but it's turned out the way it has and here we are, no more than seven feet away, each pretending that the other doesn't exist. At this point I'm simply smiling because of the sheer entertainment of writing something about someone that close to me that they will never read.

And this person probably thinks that I'm engrossed in either an extraordinarily entertaining conversation or am relaying a funny anecdote via email to someone. Alas, it is neither. And I am never going to impart the confidence that I was smiling and typing frantically over something concerning this individual of all people. So yes, while a few of my friends and various strangers will be able to read this and imagine the hilarity passing through my mind (fortunately, I think the mood from yesterday has not entirely dissipated yet), the true entertainment remains to me alone. Which frankly gives me a good bit of satisfaction in this instance.