A Gasp for Air
I can count on one hand the people I enjoy getting texts from. I eventually send one back to the stalker/fan. It is cryptic, and it stops the buzzing for an hour.
You do not amuse me.
Five simple words. Very direct. Very to the point. Very succinct.
That amused me.
So the texts and missed calls (no, I'm not answering tonight because I don't feel like listening to ten minutes of nonsense) stop for some time, and I can eat and watch the news in peace. When the phone does buzz, it is someone I like hearing from. Good to go with that. Then I check e-mail.
Was hoping to see if payments from Mediaddict and an eBay buyer were waiting for me. Nada, but that's okay. I notice pictures have arrived from stalker/fan. I delete without looking. Tired of the same old. She thinks we should "meet for coffee," as she put it three weeks ago.
I meet very few people for "coffee." The last person I met for coffee was my friend Jessica. We enjoyed several of those meetings before she left for a better life. It made me sad to see her go. We had good conversations. If I'm going to share "coffee," it's going to be with someone who engages me and forces me to talk.
Everything else leaves me bitter.
So, no, no coffee any time soon. She said she would come see me at my house. I told stalker/fan that it seems unlikely she would do that as she does not know where I live and that if she showed up uninvited it would not go well for her. I don't tolerate drop-ins. Period. That even extends to my family. People do not just think it is okay to show up at my door. Ever. That is a non-verbalized rule, but ask any friend of mine, and they would agree it is in place. (The exception being emergencies.)
"Why wouldn't that go well?" she asks.
"You don't want to catch me in the wrong mood."
I think that about says it all.
"Well, I don't know where you live anyway, so I can't do it."
"Well then. Problem solved."
I've put a ton of barriers up in place. I let very few people into my world. I am insanely private and yet fairly open. (Sometimes too open, as witnessed by a reaction I got last week to my statement on females in uniform.) I share with people I think are worthy, and in return I get a lot back.
My tattoo artist/friend/unrelated brother/vice parent to my daughter and I once had a conversation on the way into Eureka after a hard day of work at the sex shop. We were talking about friendship and how we liked to have friends we could get something from. Not money or gifts, but stuff of value. Insights. Wisdom. Emotion. We both agreed we didn't want to be friends with people who had nothing to offer. (I wonder if he remembers that conversation?) If you were a fly in the car, it probably sounded very self-centered, but in reality it was the exact opposite.
If you have nothing to offer, why would anyone want to be around you?
Some people have plenty to offer, but no one to offer it to. Sometimes they feel there are things they cannot offer because they won't be understood or appreciated, or they will make them look ... off.
I welcome those things. I want them in my life.
"Do you like my breasts?" is not a good conversation starter for me. "I've always had this fantasy ..." is.
It's now 9:30. I've got e-mail to answer. I have high hopes a certain bit of mail is there. If not ... well, I've wasted enough time for the evening. I'll call it quits and hope I wake up forgetting about today.
The mirror is intact, but my fist stands ready. One of them has got to give.