Overdue apologies ... epic post alert

I had to go to a funeral yesterday. Nigel was the manager of the bar at my university. I hadn't seen him for several years but having done my shifts behind the uni bar and in front of it for 6 years, I knew him well. He was a father figure to all the students who turned up around 18, giving us advice, jobs and drinks as we all needed. He was a great man and I felt very privileged to have known him. I will never see an old chipped teapot, a mug badly tea stained or a dalmatian without thinking of him.

Events like these are hard for me. I don't see many people from these days (more to follow in the next point) and whilst funerals are never fun, I was really working myself up into a state about this one and the people who were going to be there too. It was therefore crucial, I looked my very best. Unfortunately with a funeral you can't plan for it and loose weight in preparation so it's a good job I've been a good girl of late. I slipped back into the dress I bought for my granddad's funeral in January 2010  and with a little help from the people at Spanx. I would be willing to say I looked like the dogs bollocks! Felt like them too.

Sorry about the blurry pic. The self timer button doesn't always get the focus right and I was short of time. Plus I wasn't convinced I should be taking photos of myself going to a funeral.

Anyways ... a big chunk of a reason, I see or speak to very few people from this time in my life is a nasty situation back in 2005.

Dan and I with friends January 2005

Dan and I were in this weird, twisted relationship/not relationship/friendship mess. Nothing was official but we were inseparable and we had talked about our wedding, our kids, our future. A lot of the time it was all very secretive but everybody else was very aware we were a couple. Confused, yes me too. I did say it was a mess. We both had a friend called Louise. She worked in the uni bar, which Nigel (see above) managed and we hung out in. She was nice. We got on and had a laugh together. I started full time work and couldn't go out as much. (I would aim for one night in the week and weekends around his work schedule.) Dan didn't like it and other than a few snidey comments here and there and a few rows, he seemed to get on with it ok. He and Louise were spending more time together and then the next thing I knew, I found out (because I overheard girls gossiping in the toilets) that they were together, had been for weeks and there was a big, don't tell Sarah conspiracy. I was devastated, humiliated, hurt, angry, etc. I confronted Dan and he admitted it. Supposedly we were going to still be friends. (fat chance of that) Sadly, since Louise was working at the bar and he went there most days, I didn't feel like I could go. It was the seen of my humiliation and I certainly couldn't face either of them. "Friends" were unable/unwilling to make the effort to come see me away from the uni bar, either because they didn't understand my feelings or because they didn't care and all but the closest of us lost touch.

Fast forward to yesterday. I think you'll all agree I have changed considerably since those days. It wasn't really surprising everyone kept saying how great I looked. The uni folks ended up in a 2 camp split. Me, with my wonderful long standing friend Tarquin, Maz and a few of their good friends on one table and the Dan and Louise (now married) on another with a few of the former "friends". Next to each other but worlds apart. Many of them could barely even look at me. I swear I could feel daggers in my back. I wanted to leave. A few years ago, I probably would have left but I had T and my dogs bollocks dress so I held my head high and stayed the course.

Me and Tarquin, May 2012

 By 7 pm, the numbers had seriously dwindled, Dan and Louise were the only ones left in their camp so the two camps became one. It was fine. Surely we could carry on politely ignoring each other for the sense of occasion. No such luck. I made an effort, I made nice comments on their general group conversation because it was polite and T said I had to be nice. Then a grand exodus to the smoking area, left Louise and I alone. Whether she was fueled by the drink or not, I will never know. She said I looked well. I thanked her politely and then she apologised for "that business before". I said it was fine, I had moved on, I was glad they were both happy etc. I put on my best fake smile. Conversation progressed from there. Dan came back, bought me a drink. We had to relocate to a different area of the bar and got wedged in a corner together. Conversation carried on. Old friends, what have we been up to etc. Dan and I barely talked but exchanged comments on the general conversation which showed we had a lot of history. He hasn't forgotten it. Every so often, I escaped to the ladies to text my friend Helena that I was going insane and wanted to bash her round the head with a chair. T gave me lots of reassuring glances. They finally left. Dan hugged me and blew lots of kisses but she had the sense to just say goodbye. I had my first real drink in months. It wasn't strong because I was driving but I toasted Nigel and hoped he was proud of me. I was proud of myself, I survived and didn't kill anyone.

Now the silly cow wants to be friends on facebook. WTF!!!!!

I don't want to add her *stamps feet and pouts childishly* but if I don't, it looks like I am still all bitter and twisted. I'm not but I don't really want to connect myself with them. We have mutual friends and now this is no longer painful for me, I would like to make it easier on them. I thought about writing her a message to say that while I wish them all the best and enjoyed catching up, I think being friends is a bridge too far and would rather leave it. What do you think? Should I just suck it up since it's been the best part of 7 years or am I still justified in not poking at old wounds?