Philosophical Idealism; Phantom Limb Syndrome (Reprise)

I was one of four people in the bar, including the bartender.

First, his new girlfriend walked in.  I assumed he would be soon to follow, and he was.

They walked up to the bar.  I began to put on my coat.  He was standing about three feet to my left.

I tapped him on the shoulder to say hello on my way out.  “Oh, I didn’t see you,” he claimed.

“Right,” I replied.  This was hard for me to believe.  There were so few people in the bar along with his proximity to me, and his roommates were with him and they had both said hello.

“No, uh, I really didn’t see you,” he repeated.  The tone of his voice was unkind.

“Okay,” I said, and I left.

I guess I really did make myself not exist.

In retrospect, I am starting to realize who I really don’t want to exist and therefore the person who I choose not to exist to: her.  Not because I want to be with him.  Because it’s terrible to feel so easily replaced.

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