Now that I've left.

Now that I've left I expect they're all saying how stupid I've been. I imagine them sitting there, cradling their glasses in their palms. Their private gentlemans club making snide remarks about the silly young girl. What little she knows. How naive she is - how childish her sensibilities.

Or maybe they're not. Maybe they're not talking about me at all. Perhaps my absence stays unmentioned, and their conversation meanders down a different path. Maybe I don't matter that much at all.

I don't know what would be worse.