Hurt Writer

An attractive platinum haired woman stopped by the roadside and said, "Excuse me. Who does your hair?" Stunned, I looked down at my two dogs, well aware I had on my dog-walking clothes. Thinking I had heard wrong, I said,"Excuse me?"

Since that time nine months ago, the woman and I became friends. In fact, she often calls me just to check how I'm doing. At one point, she called once or twice a day; it reminded me of a guy dating a girl. Jokingly, I even asked her if she was dating me.

My friend and I do the normal girl-things: run errands together; sit and talk over coffee, tea or lunch; take turns driving the other to the airport; and, of course - shop. I'm truly grateful for her friendship and knowing she's there if needed. The thing is, she hurt my feelings.