The ghosts of matches past keep appearing. Fortunately not in my bedroom at midnight, but still. In the past two weeks, I’ve heard from The Scientist, The Hermit, The Leaguer, and The Cop. Full disclosure: The Hermit and I have been exploring the landscape of a text-only friendship for the past five weeks, and it’s been generally ok. I felt we crossed a threshold of progress when he shared about his post-me dating life (spoiler: it’s not going well). In contrast, when The Leaguer texted, I didn’t even consider replying. With The Scientist, I told him I was doing great and currently dating someone. He replied that he was thriving as well and about to start a doctoral program. I’m happy for him but fully expect to never hear from him again.
The Cop, though? I knew he was genuinely interested in how I was doing, so I gave him the shiny happy version, including a mention about the blog. His curiosity was piqued, and I couldn’t help myself — I had to share. I cautioned him that his entry wasn’t sugar-coated, a half-hearted warning, for he was surely tough enough to handle it. Roughly ten minutes later, my phone rings: it’s him.
- He is fascinated by the blog
- He wanted to clarify a few things (he’s politically moderate and open-minded, for one, and also, he wouldn’t have made me drive all the way to his place for the kidnapping thing)
There’s something singularly nerve-wracking about having the subject of your writing give feedback on your characterization of them. Even if they take offense, it’s not as though I’d change anything. Even The Voyeur, upon reading his original post for the first time, felt the need to point out that I could have at least given him credit for his bedroom skills, especially considering where I’d been earlier that night.
Not everyone I’ve shared the blog with appears to have bothered to read it, which I think indicates something significant about their personality (such as being freakishly unconcerned with how people see them). Me? If I knew I had been written about, you couldn’t pay me to ignore it. For those who seem content to remain willingly ignorant of my perspective on their exploits…suit yourselves, gents.