Hours later, I’m still upset. Thanks a lot, Mister Cab Driver, for ruining my evening with your thoughtless words.
I was still at the office at 6:20 and had more to do, but I needed to run home and get something before going to my bereavement group at 7:00. I took a cab. What a big mistake.
The cab driver, after learning that I had relocated to Toronto so I could be closer to Pennsylvania and finding out why, took it upon himself to berate me for not “moving on”.
“Why don’t you go back [to Vancouver]?” he said. “There’s nothing for you in Pennsylvania anymore. Cut your losses and get on with life.”
I have heard this from more people than I care to remember. I’m angry with myself for letting the words of total strangers get to me. I am frustrated because I should’ve seen it coming, and had some scathing remark ready to put him in his place. Or, at the very least, stopped answering his pushy questions!
“I don’t recall asking your opinion on this matter,” I should have said.
“Back off!” — would have cut him off at the pass.
“Why is it any of your business?” — would have ended it then and there.
I don’t know what upsets me more: unnecessarily defending my personal decisions to people who don’t matter, or feeling distressed by their words.
All I do know is that it made tonight’s group very, very hard to sit through, let alone give a monologue about what David meant to me. I wanted to go home. I feel like I’m going backwards, that my skin isn’t getting thicker after all. I can’t remember anything I said. Maybe I’ll remember later, but right now my mind is cloudier than today’s sky over Toronto.