B: “How’s it going?”
Me: “Good.. getting settled into the school routine. I’m coaching her soccer team so that’s been fun, we have the second game tomorrow.”
20 minutes pass… no other text messages come.
Me: “… how have you been?”
B: “Pretty good. Just working a lot. Nothing exciting to report haha.”
No other texts at all. And if you’re confused, B is my daughter’s biological father. I still owe you people some back story… but I can’t bring myself to write about it objectively anymore. Every time I tell the story it’s more embittered and less factual. Littered with embellishments to really drive home the fact that deep down, I still hate him for who he was back then. Not only that, but how much I hated who I was too. Time doesn’t heal these kind of wounds, it infects them and they fester and boil and smell horribly. Moving on.
Those messages were exchanged Friday night, and as of writing this post there has been no other contact. I kept waiting for something, for him to ask how she likes third grade or to find out when they could Skype next. Maybe inquire into how she’s doing in soccer or Tae Kwon Do. Maybe even if she has started Girl Scouts yet or if she’s made any new friends! But those questions never came. So why did he text me?
I’m not a dentist, surgeon or interrogator. I’m not going to pull, extract or coerce out of him the reasoning behind sending me a random text message with no follow-up. I will not hold his hand through this process of “re-connecting” with my daughter… although that implies there was ever a first connection. If 2 months of knowing her counts, then I guess there was.
The reason I put all this in front of you is because I embarrassed the shit out of myself last night because of him. I’d be willing to bet no one even knew that it happened, but for about an hour, my blog went PRIVATE. As in, no posts viewable to anyone, period. That was right after posting something in complete desperation, then later deleting it:
I just happened to check my stats a little while ago, and had 74 views! I normally don’t have more than 15 in a day, 20 would make me happy dance. When I checked to see what was being read… it was.. everything? Only 4 visitors, and up to 96 views the last time I checked. Someone is literally reading all of my posts.
Although I’d like to think it’s because I’m awesome and my writing is so riveting that you can’t pull yourself away, I have a feeling that’s not the case.
So stalkerish kinda reader, who are you?
I was freaking out. I sat in front of my laptop for an hour watching my views tick upwards one post at a time. I could tell that someone was literally just clicking through post after post and had made their way through the last 50 of them when I picked up on it. Who was reading everything I’ve ever written? Why did they care? I was literally paralyzed with fear that it might have been B. That maybe he (or someone he knows) stumbled onto my blog and was digging for incriminating information.
Then I got to thinking that I’ve written things about him that he probably wouldn’t want to read. I’ve also written about my weaknesses in parenting, my affinity for drinking wine, and my less than stellar financial situation. What would he think of all that? Would it come back to haunt me? So after literally picking my lips off with my fingernails and chewing the inside of my cheeks until they were raw, I shut it all down to catch my breath.
My phone was dead during this time, and when I hesitantly turned it back on expecting the worst… I found a new email follower instead. Some random person that was genuinely enjoying my writing. I only know that because I sent that person an email to ask if it was them reading all of my posts. Oh yes I did! It turns out that my blog is an excellent alternative to house cleaning.. ironically I feel the same way!
Can you believe that? All that nervousness for nothing. I’ve never felt so relieved! I deleted the paranoid post and made the blog public again. Then went to bed.
This evening I randomly visited one of my favorite bloggers, oakparkhatesveggies. She’s been dealing with this kind of crap lately, people taking an issue with what she writes on her blog. And it got me thinking, why should I care? I talk all this mess about how I write what I want to write (and if you don’t like it, go to hell)! Then I chickened out the first moment that I thought someone might have a problem with something I wrote.
Well… I have officially decided that I have no reason to feel that way. I don’t publish real names, and I certainly haven’t made anything up. What you read on Write in the Wrong Way is all truth, all me, all the time. I’ll continue to write about B, and anyone or anything else I feel like. I will not hide from someone’s possible reaction to my reality, no matter how much they might not like it.
Weekly Writing Challenge: Dialogue