I have not used WhatsApp for many years and I was surprised to see an old flame appear in my contact list. Apparently, it was because I have a new phone number and it wasn’t blocked. The following are the last two messages I have sent, and I am now deleting that app and her contact info. After the first message, there was some seriously strange social activity – I think I saw her in uniform in a police car (stalking me) and after the farmer’s market a couple of weeks ago, I see no reason to go back there, either. Really, I have done nothing to deserve this. She, in this case, will remain anonymous since she’s been peripheral to so much but she’s not the main character in my saga, anyway. I am posting this because it’s clear the second message wasn’t received and I’m not okay with the lack of closure. Similar to the fiasco with the coffee shop, the right thing to do for a woman who doesn’t want a man is to politely decline. There is nothing stopping this person, the other, or others from simply saying, ‘thanks for the compliment, I’m flattered but not interested’ – instead, I get used as a tool to get attention while being ignored, then monitored everywhere I go.. Whether it’s a love note to a sexy barista, a message to an old lover, or a poem to someone I still yearn for, there is simply no reason to treat me like a predator for being a man. The anti-male sexism has become so extreme these days that guys get condemned for looking at a woman, and the campaign against me has become ludicrous. I still think I’m worth talking to, but this is a goodbye, after all. I have gone to great lengths to be available, but I just get dismissed. So, no more WhatsApp…
9/5/24, 8:46 AM
Good morning…
There’s a quiet haze in the air, no wind on a slow morning. The color raises a primal sense of alert, smoke at sunrise. The heat is coming. I see your picture and I’m surprised. I thought you blocked me, though now I realize that was my last number. Sitting down at the gravel bar where we first met in person, I have a fantasy about floating the river with you. But that would entail a ride in my jeep and we know how you feel about that – it does look less like a cartoon now, but more like a cow. And I look more like the abominable snowman. It has been good to see you recently, all the same, with and without those turquoise rimmed glasses. You’re always taller than I remember, and I’m always preoccupied… but it should go without saying, I would love to have you in my arms again. You’re beautiful, and you were the greatest lover in all my life. You will probably block this number now, and I will wish you the best. I don’t expect a reply. A heron has come to fish along with an osprey, the ducks have moved on, and the traffic keeps flowing like the river. My day is the same, accommodating the weather and taking care of myself. I won’t bother you with any more messages, but know that you are welcome in my life. I still live in the same place, and this is my new number, should you want to connect…
— Indigo
9/8/24, 8:05 AM
In retrospect, I am deeply offended by the bizarre amount of social engineering in lieu of direct communication when you (and others) have my phone number and know where I live. What’s with the plethora of silver cars that next day, or all the uniforms and yelling? I may never know what happened so many years ago for Christmas, but I have seen the woman of my dreams with way too many other guys, even paraded in front of me half naked with the guy who drugged me, and clearly in contact with my neighbors and my family – even in Mexico – but not me. And the last thing I need is more stalking by people who would rather gossip about me than talk to me. I guess no good love story is complete without the element of betrayal, and I remember the insults, the deceit, and the rejection, too. To this day, I just want someone who will make plans with me to go places and do things, but you’re part of the puppet show designed to manipulate and I deserve more respect than that. This morning I woke up crying about how my dog suffered for seven days before passing away, and how isolated I’ve been for the last two decades. After my friend passed away, while still coming to terms with the death of my father, I realized that the people who have loved me the most are all dead. Nobody cares about me. I didn’t do anything to deserve the psychological abuse or violations of privacy where I live, and I have exhausted my resources seeking social justice. So, this is a farewell. I think you were a beautiful mirage in my despair and a hopeless fantasy thereafter. I’m already thinking about the holidays this year and the onset of Fall is bothering me, but I’ve become a one-man show and I will maintain my independence. So, you people can have the festivals and the farmer’s market, the parties, BBQs, and camping trips with friends – this is the only town where I have experienced such pretentiousness that people actually think they have a right to decide if I should be allowed to drive past a coffee shop, or have a non-alcoholic beer… it’s hopeless to think about cross country skiing or getting a Christmas tree with a lover when the fact is I’m barely welcome at the bowling alley. And for what significance you had in my life, I think it’s broken now and was really never functional. I do genuinely wish you the best. There is no reason for a public response. I’m deleting your contact info now so you won’t be hearing from me again, and I won’t be waiting for answers from you. Goodbye.
— Indigo