The details don’t matter. This is not a complaint about anyone. It’s an observation about myself.
Recently, I had drinks with someone, a woman I’d never met before, but had gotten to know just a tiny bit. It wasn’t a sexual date. We were interested in talking, not fucking.
After the date, I learned from a woman I’d met through Tinder, and corresponded a bit with, that she and this woman were friendly, that they had established they “knew” me in common. Prior to the date.
So, I sat down and had drinks with this person who, unbeknownst to me, knew of my relationship with this third person, and had discussed me with her. She chose not to disclose this to me, prior to, during, or after our drinks. I learned of it about 36 hours later. I have no idea what they said about me. It might have been as little as, “Oh, you know N? I do too!”
Whatever it was, it left me with such a bitter taste in my mouth.
To be clear: no one did anything wrong. But it made me not want to speak to either of them again, leaving me feeling vulnerable, exposed, misled. I’m not seeking an apology. I don’t, honestly, think I’m owed one.
But I will tell you this: if you meet me and I know things about you that you don’t know I know about you? I’ll tell you.
P.S. To the woman with whom I had this drink: there’s no doubt in my mind that this informed in some way my reaction to the request of yours, my response to which so bothered you. I hadn’t thought about it, but I’m sure of it. I’m sorry, once again, that I wasn’t able to give you a better, more thoughtful, more considerate response to your request. I hope this is, at least, a partial explanation.