I’m a dick


9:48 and I’m just settling into my chair to blog. After careful consideration and a lot of help from friends, I decided I’m not going for coffee this morning. The guy creeps me out.

My walk this morning was not as paranoid as my walk the other day. Only looked over my shoulder once today; the other day I was checking every 15 minutes, just to be sure. Still sticking to main streets rather than the parks. And I think I’ve ruined one park for me: I told him I liked to walk thru it. I’m also avoiding the street area where I ran into him. Can I ‘fess up to all that and still claim to be okay? I’m not freaking out horribly – but feeling like I need to avoid certain areas does point to my remaining discomfort. My friend, J, thinks women are conditioned to not trust our instincts. And it’s true. We’re told we’re being paranoid or overreacting all the while we’re fighting to keep hands off of our bodies. Yes. I have that particular memory in my own horror-flavor. And yes, it’s been coming up a lot lately.

Whether or not avoiding this situation is mentally healthy for me doesn’t matter right now. I need to know I’m physically safe. Been un-safe too many times in the past.

So. I now walk with my iPod on low, so I can hear things around me. My keys are kept in my right hand pocket, so I can grab them as a weapon. I keep my head about me, and my eyes sharp for who’s close to me.

I don’t like feeling unsafe.

IF, in the future, the dreaded confrontation comes with the guy – the why didn’t you show up or text questions – I hope to have enough courage to state it simply: you scared me when you locked the door. Boom. Don’t have to say anything after that. I was raised to lie in situations like this: say you got ill, you lost the number, etc. I don’t like that at all, and I’m not good at it. Just don’t know how brave I’ll be if it comes up. Just hope it never does come up.

…And no matter how many times I go thru this, how much I tell myself I need to listen to my gut, I feel guilty for sitting here right now rather than showing up and telling him face-to-face what’s going on.

That’s my bad, and I own it. Maybe a little too much.

‘Cause this isn’t a simple thing for me. It’s a big thing. A big, BIG thing. It’s okay to not get it right a few times. I did what I didn’t do before; I made my concerns known to the people around me. Got some feedback and support. I’m saying no the only way I know how right now: by not showing.

And that’s okay. People do it all the time. Better a clean cut than a prolonged bunch of bullshit, anyway.

A bit of me time today. A shower. Maybe a facial masque while I watch some more Awkward. Got into the series yesterday on my tv system. Sometimes I think I enjoy watching programs about much younger people because some part of me is stuck back there and I’m still trying to figure things out. But I do find the show more enjoyable than others I’ve tried recently, so what the hell. I’m looking for entertainment, not some deep epiphany on my own behavior. I can acknowledge I’m showing great courage in discussing my fears, even in my decision to not show up today. I’m taking control of me and my body. I just need a little self pampering.

Gods…I just can never acknowledge the pain that could be on the other end of a bullshit move until I’m there, you know? Not showing is a bullshit move. I should just show up, tell him he scares me and I don’t want any kind of relationship with him and leave. That would be the brave thing to do. But I’m not ready to do that. Too fucking chicken. So I make the bullshit move of not being on the up and up but I want empathy and understanding for the pain that makes me do it – GODDAMN it! If I ask for that, I have to give it in return, which then brings up a whole bunch of other shit.

So I’m not ready. I’m a dick for saying I’d be there and then ditching. I can live with that.

I don’t know that I could live with some of the scenarios my brain insisted on showing to me.



4 thoughts on “I’m a dick

  1. No you aren’t a dick. You’re being way too hard on yourself. Creeps don’t deserve any reasons, and sometimes the least confrontational way is better at the end of the day. You aren’t a chicken, he manipulated you into agreeing in the first place. He’s the dick, not you.

    Liked by 1 person

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