Way one: The Worst Ever, complete with tears and sighs and damning �no one loves me� playlists composed almost exclusively of songs I liked when I was 13.
Way two: empowerment. I think, surprising as it may seem, way two just edges out the competition.
Because, really, here�s the thing: I gave it a shot and I got shot down and I�m still here. My head did not explode. My reality was not rendered obsolete. I was not killed by a fiery death-ball of humiliation. While at first these may not seem like major accomplishments, they are.
When I think about the implicit statements I needed to make about myself in order to give �let�s do lunch� a shot, I am impressed with myself. When I think even more about the implicit statements I need to be making about myself in order to feel not-sad about this, I am even more impressed.
Perhaps this is a new leaf: perhaps I am done sitting on the sidelines and saying �I wish this would happen�� That�s not fair to anyone else around me: why should they do all the work? If I want something to happen, I try to make it happen. If it doesn�t work out, I�m okay.
It�s silly to think that�s a mentality one doesn�t embrace all the time, regardless. But, at least in my case, it isn�t.
I have a sneaking suspicion that rejection (though done very kindly) was actually the best possible outcome here.