Goodbye DB

I know it’s been a long time since i wrote. I’ve thought about it but there really hasn’t been much that was so remarkable that i thought it was worth sharing. There’s also the fact that i have this pile of shit from years ago that i promised i’d eventually post. For years it was something that absolutely consumed me. It cost me my job, my sanity and i couldn’t think of anything else during that time. Eight years on, i am repulsed by anything that reminds me of my past and the people i once associated with.

But i am going to push that plate of shit to the side for now because something came up last Monday that has brought me back here to write for the first time in what… two years?

A few weeks ago I started talking to a woman in Vancouver. She was pleasant, funny, attractive and seemed smart. For the first time in years, i felt like i had a spark with someone and even though she wasn’t a perfect fit for me, i’m at a point in my life where i need to find the things that i can bend on while keeping firm on those things that i can’t.

Last Saturday night we video chatted via Google Hangouts. It went well. She was cuter than her pictures led me to believe and we had a nice conversation.

On a whim, we ended up talking again the next night. I’d been out for a walk and had on my shorts so before we began, i wrapped a small comforter around my waist the same way you’d wrap a towel around yourself. My window in this room was open and because of where i live, the temps were 10c / 50f or so. The fabric of this blanket is kind of slick. I’m wearing it again right now and as usual, it’s come undone and my legs are cold ’cause i’m too stupid to close the window next to me.

What can i say? I like the feel of clear, clean air, even if it makes me cold.

I woke up on Monday to an email from her. It was titled, ‘Hi’ and read as follows:

Hi Shelly,

So it seemed to me that last night while we were chatting that you were masturbating. That’s not cool with me.

I wish you all the best.

Take care,

I stared at this message in utter disbelief. Was it a joke? Where was the punchline? What in the ever living fuck did this mean?

I immediately responded:

Oh my goodness. No. Absolutely not. What in the world gave you that idea?

I waited. Nothing from her. Then i started thinking. ‘Why would she say such a thing? What gave her this idea?’

Remember how i said this comforter that i have wrapped around me has a slick fabric? I kept pulling it back over my legs and generally fidgeting with it.

I wrote her again with:

This is deeply disconcerting, Denise. I’m actually shocked at the allegation but maybe others have done that sort of thing to you before.

I’d like to think i’m a pretty honest person. Whether you think that about me or not is up to you but no, my clothes were on. I was not masturbating. If you saw my hands moving down there, it was because the throw blanket that i had wrapped around my legs kept falling off.

I’ll leave it to you to decide if you think i’m deceptive in that or not but i’ve been very straight forward with you from the start.

She never responded. To this day, nearly a week later, she never responded.

It really, really hurt. I even cried that day and the rest of the week, i just felt more sadness than i’ve felt in a long time.

Tonight i finally put my thoughts into words and sent this following mail to her:

Dear D,

I do not know why you chose to accuse me of masturbating while we were talking last week. I can’t prove that I wasn’t but I wasn’t. I am a lot of things but what I’m not is a creep looking for cheap thrills, nor am I someone that would derive pleasure while denying consent from someone else.

I can’t prove to you that what you saw me do was fidgeting with my blanket. Had you asked me or said something during our talk, I could have shown you. It was chilly that night. I had an open window next to me and was wearing shorts. I have a small blanket made of a slick material. I had wrapped it around my waist like a towel. It kept sliding off and I kept pulling it back over my legs.

But I can look myself in the mirror and know I was honest in everything I ever told and shared with you. I am firmly of the belief that all honesty is derived from self honesty and along with that honesty comes a sense of dignity and respect for others. I did not take your accusation well. As far as personal events go, you filled me with more sorrow than any other event this year.

I forwarded your email and spoke to my friends and my family about your accusation and they’ve come to the same conclusion that I did- that you chose to see what you wanted to see. Further, the fact that you made your accusation without giving me a chance to respond revealed more than enough about you and the content of your character; specifically the lack thereof.

All you had to do was ask me what I was doing with my hands that night. I could have moved the camera to show you. You would have groaned then laughed and I could have teased you about it. That’s all you had to do- but you chose not to. Then you chose to accuse me without giving me a chance to respond.

I really enjoyed talking to you for that short time, Denise. You were the first spark I’ve felt for anyone in many years. You’re smart, cute, funny, conversational and I liked hearing about your day. It would have been nice to see how far anything between us could have gone- but you single handedly ruined that. While my conscious is clear, yours is troubled.

I wish you had said something that night but more than that, I just wish you were a better person than you are.


Sometimes you see what you choose to see.