Stalker Paul Pt. Deux (aka: A Little Honesty)

Just when I thought the rather bizarre exchange with Stalker Paul was over, it wasn't.

I wasn't going to mention it here because Paul was always a sneaky person and I have little doubt he's lurking here. Fortunately, I don't really care about a what a guy I dated a decade ago thinks. I, on the other hand, think it's bizarre that he continues to get in touch in one way or another every few years. I always resist and he always tries again. Franky, it's a bit sad at this point. He's apparently got a wife and baby, why on earth would he want to contact me? I don't really get it except that he must, assuming he has managed to not evolve, still prefer to look back in a melancholy, wistful sort of way... ALL THE TIME. That, or he's going through one 12-step program or another. Far be it from me to get between a guy and his 30-day chip but I frankly don't care to get into it.

He wrote, in part " ... I would really like to know how you're doing outside of these recaps. If you're up for it let me know. Ten years is a long time". I'm not sure what I was supposed to be "up for" but it didn't matter. I wasn't interested. The very best part about this email was Heidi's reaction to it. Yes, I forwarded it to the two people on earth who understood how annoying it was, Heidi and Kb. I sent it with "What do I say?". (For those interested I replied "I'd rather not... I don't see the point...blah, blah, blah.") Heidi has a wonderful way of inventing the perfect curse word for any occasion. She never fails to crack me up. To Paul's "Ten years is a long time" she said "Not long enough Fucktard!!!" When he later wrote "I do not wish to belabor this issue but I believe I may have done more harm than good in contacting you in such a flip manner." and I sent it to my girls, Kb also assumed that a 12-step program was in the works while Heidi wrote "Oh, Christ on a crutch. What does he want now?!"

To help illustrate why I'm not interested in reacquainting myself with this person, allow me to share a couple of memories. Paul once told me that my love of baseball "isn't very feminine". Can you imagine?! Apparently girls aren't supposed to enjoy cute boys in tight pants playing a game they learned to love from their Daddies and Vin Scully. Why I didn't reply "Sort of like your not liking baseball (football, basketball, hockey... you pick a sport) isn't very masculine?" I'll never know. In the end, more than anything, I resented the fact that throughout much of our relationship I mistook his occasional indifference to me to be due to my weight. I can only assume that because he was incredibly vain and insecure, he allowed me to feel inadequate when, in fact, his aloof nature was actually due to his lifelong denial of his attraction to men. I learned of this interesting development about a year after our breakup when he admitted his new fondness of receiving blow jobs from nameless men in darkened bookstore parking lots. This news was a surprise blessing in disguise. Any lingering feelings I may have had for Paul were immediately erased in that moment of confession. There was no anger, no sadness, just a complete and utter absence of feeling for the guy. It was all gone in an instant. It may have been the sudden realization that one of my best friends was actually a complete stranger. God knows I love the gay boys, I just don't enjoy dating them. Especially the promiscuous ones. Now, to be fair, I learned a lot from that relationship. I now steer clear of men who don't like sports and/or some sort of quality masculine music (Springsteen, Zappa, Clapton, Zeppelin... you get the picture) and prefer jazzercise and Donna Summer. I certainly don't enjoy men who begrudge my enjoyment of spectator sports and man bands from time to time.

But really, the reason I bring it up at all is that a) I stayed home sick today and don't have a lot of material and we're cruising into the last stretch of NaBloPoMo and b) it reinforces something I've known for a very long time. If a relationship is all drama I simply don't care to participate. I've carefully pruned the friendship branch of my life to include only those that are very high quality. I have friends I've known since middle school. I reconnected with some great people at my reunion and I make new friends at work all the time. I do have one friend I happily got custody of after Paul and I split. He warned me of the evils of Heidi and he couldn't have been more wrong. Come to think of it though, Heidi was critical to our breakup. Well, she didn't know it. I recall Paul wanting me to drive down to Dana Point to see him (again) for the weekend. Instead, I decided to go to Heidi's birthday party. He really freaked out on me. I could have done the same old thing that weekend: gone down to Dana Point, bought Paul some groceries (again) and been bored out of my mind watching him do laundry while listening to him lament one of his life's decisions or another (again). Instead, I did the difficult thing. I went to a party where I only knew one person. One person who was thrilled to see me and graciously introduced me to several of her friends. Friends that I would get to know much better in the next few years. I'm actually a closet shy person. Walking into a room of strangers is not my idea of a good time but forcing myself to do so was a turning point for me. It was one of the first independent, confident diva things I'd done in a long time. I was thrilled while, judging from his reaction, Paul seemed angry by this turn of events.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying my friends have to be perfect. I'm not saying they have to always agree with me and do and say what I want. That would be not only impossible but down right dull. I keep the friends that are supportive, have loads of integrity, who make me laugh, who are grown ups, who share common interests and who I trust.

I swear, if I called from Tijuana desperate for help, Tony would jump in his car at 3:00 am to pick me up. Kathleen would claw somebodies eyes out if they so much as looked at me wrong. Stacey would pull me into her clan as if I were a sister, and has. Shandon (and probably her protective posse) would provide a warm cup of tea and a comfy couch if ever I needed a place to have a nervous breakdown. Heidi would sit at my hospital bed for days if I, God forbid, were ever in that position. I'm not saying I expect all of these scenarios to play out, but it's nice to know I've got a good crew to back me up if ever needed.

So there you have it. That's why I'm in no way interested in cobbling together a friendship with somebody I never respected in the first place. That's the bottom line isn't it? Respect. You've got to respect your true friends and I do.

I'd now like to thank all of my friends for being mature and wonderful. I love you all! And thank you for being on my side, not matter what.