I’ve left some person in my wake who still has a reason to hate me. They are fairly smart – smart enough to mask their IP address and smart enough to know that the way to hurt a woman is to call her fat or old. This person calls me both on a regular basis. Well, maybe not regular but usually when I’ve posted something having to do with sex or men. Not saying I’m not fat, old, or both. But it strikes me as funny that whomever this person is he (if it isn’t a He it’s a girlfriend or a wife of a He) can’t seem to let go. He keeps coming back and following me around the web. So, you know, not to be a psychotic’s stresser or anything, but don’t you think it’s time you moved on, pal? I can assure you that whatever happened between us probably left me feeling a lot worse than it left you so can’t we just call it even? You go your way and I’ll go mine? Unless it isn’t an ex at all; unless it’s some other weird type of internet stalker — a person I’ve never even met.
If you want to be a blogger, if you want to “live in public,” you have to be aware that this kind of stuff can happen and the only thing you can do is rise above. Whomever they are sadness, bitterness, loneliness lurks there. That kind of shallow is rare in we humans but it does exist. I get to live my life, which I’m liking more and more lately, and they get to lives theirs, which I’m sure isn’t a pretty picture.