Sexuality, Cyberstalking and the Loss of Friends

Do you know how to make me go away fast?

Tell me you do drugs recreationally. (Medicinal marijuana is another thing…I'm still on the fence about that, but mostly positive.)

I actually had a guy message me on Facebook once and tell me that he liked my work, but–oops! He let it slip that he smoked pot. Bye!

I don't care what people do on their own time…the United States is a free country, after all (within the bounds of reason). But if you do drugs for the hell of it, don't expect to start (or maintain) a friendship with me. I don't want any of that! (Sober or "tried it once and I hated it" is fine…after all, not liking the former would rule out Jamie, and I still like him. Somewhat.)

 

Another way to get me to go away? Question my sexuality.

I actually had a girl (and she is just a girl, with this attitude) tell me at lunch that I wasn't "living life" and "seeing the world" if I wasn't having sex. (Of course, she mentioned just before that that she's decided to be a "little bit of a slut" now, because "she's young and needs to experience things". Wow. Her self-confidence is so low that I don't even think NASA has the tools to measure it.)

Hell, I even had a former kitchen manager from a restaurant I worked at ask me if I was certain I was straight because I didn't have sex. O.o

Excuse-you-me? I don't need sex to define myself as a person. I don't need sex to make me feel proud of myself. I'm a fucking published novelist, for the sake of the Goddess! I may not be able to keep down a traditional job thanks to various shit that's happened in my life (hopefully, this upcoming work-at-home gig will pan out), but I'm proud of my mind and the expanse of my knowledge. I wouldn't trade my knowledge, odd memory and creativity for all the sex in the world–even with one or both of my guys.

 

As for "stalking", we've discussed that (you, my loyal readers and I). You've read "The Anti-Crazy" (too lazy to remove the video and find a new one), know how I feel and where I stand on the issue.

I've drawn lines I don't intend to cross (or can't, in a few cases). I don't intend to try to figure out how to email him, primarily because I can't. (You might be surprised to learn that I'll shut up in the presence of someone I like, due to inexplicable shyness. It was hell writing the letter that went into that box!) I'm glad he doesn't have a friend button on Facebook…I might do or say something stupid if I worked up the courage to use it! (I have a few times, but it was short-lived.) Hell, it's a good thing he never replies to me on twitter because of the shy/stupid probability! I'll never find his kids on Facebook (don't want to and can't–no names, remember? That's why I call them "Alpha" and "Beta".) I will definitely, never ever tell "Maria Isabel" (again with the made-up names!) to get lost. Even if I thought we had a snowball's chance in hell, the gods sent Maria Isabel to him first for a reason…I would just have to sit back and wait.

Heck, I don't even ask for the "lesser" things I usually see on twitter–a request for a reply, follow or retweet. He followed me of his own volition, and as far as I'm concerned, I'll know I've gone too far the day he disappears.

Until that time, I'll continue to be myself…single virgin and all.

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