I’m most likely going to be disposing of a long held friendship with this week’s piece, but que sera, sera, that’s how the cookie crumbles and se la vie.
A person I have known for over a dozen years–through a 12-step program, of course–saw my article from last week on Linked In and decided to try to eviscerate me publicly for the poor decisions I’ve made with my love life. I use the term “publicly” because this person could have very easily texted me or messaged me via Linked In but, instead, decided to leave this self righteous rant for all to see.
This had much the same effect as picking a fight in the schoolyard during lunch period and getting beat up, because my response was exactly what it should’ve been: f*ck off.
Like most people who have ever put themselves in the public arena with authentic and truthful writing, I have been subjected to strangers who imagine I’m asking them for advice–this used to happen on the Elephant Journal page more than anywhere else. I’d write a laugh out loud funny article about the ridiculous nonsense people post on Facebook and there’d be any number of comments suggesting that I just stop using Facebook. Problem solved. Then I’d write a funny article about a shitty date and I’d get these treatises on my inability to make discerning choices.
My favorite excoriation was when I wrote an article with the title “F*ckboys Have Feelings, Too.” Now anyone with a sense of literary flair might pick up on the fact that the title utilizes some fine alliteration and, therefore, is pretty catchy. Man, on Instagram, there were fifty comments all talking about how I wasn’t even good looking enough to be a “f*ckboy,” how I should stop feeling sorry for myself etc etc. Every addition to the thread was, yet, another person who quite obviously never read the piece, but felt offended by the title and just assumed they knew what it was about. But this is what one is signing up for when they agree to write in a public forum.
However, when people you’ve known since the mid-aughts begin to do the same thing, it’s infuriating. Their reasoning is a bit different, though. It is as if the reward for being a goody-goody is to shove it in everyone’s face. That 12-step righteousness. It’s like a person is saying, “I don’t drink, I don’t imbibe any mood altering substances, and I don’t get involved in bad relationships, so the least you can do is allow me to make you feel bad about the fact that you do.”
I feel like I’ve said this a million times, so I’ll keep it brief. I am a writer. I write. Writing makes me feel more alive than any woman, any relationship or any sex has ever made me feel. So I am not complaining. I am celebrating the fact that I have experienced a situation in my life, that I have been able to sit down at dawn and dissect on Microsoft Word over a hot cup of coffee. Not only that, but I can say, honestly, that my hope is to have many more experiences that will allow me to fly and feel free from that executive leather desk chair I sit in every morning.
This evening, I went out to dinner with a woman that I am enraptured with. She is so pretty and smart and different and fun. She was the kind of woman that makes me wish I could be in a relationship. But I’ve been in many relationships and, I don’t know if it’s me or just the way these things seem to go all too often, but the only way I can feel assured of the fact that we could possibly remain in each other’s lives is if it doesn’t become a relationship. I don’t mean to sound presumptuous. Chances are, the fact that she is half my age precludes this from being a reality anyway. But speaking from the hypothetical, “if I had three wishes,” I’d wish for it to be this way. Then, I’d eventually settle for a friendship.
I’d need a little time to figure out what my other two wishes might be, but I’d seriously consider one of them be that people stop reading my work and then feel compelled to help me or offer me their tough love or their hard earned advice. In the very inspired words of Kenny Loggins, “I'm alright/Nobody worry 'bout me/Why you got to gimme a fight?/Can't you just let it be?
Because, believe it or not, well meaning person who is getting ready to “set me straight,” there are many people who appreciate what I write for what it is. There are many people who write to me and feel an incredible sense of relief that they are not the only ones. They thank me because, even for just a brief moment, they felt less alone after reading my work.
I’m not entirely sure what inspires a person to read something that has obviously been proofread and deliberately published, complete with picture and subtitle, and then think, “Ugghhh, this person is crying out for my wisdom!” but for Christ’s sakes, get a hold of yourself.
I’m alright.
I love reading your work Billy. It is real. honest and sometimes sarcastic and sometimes humorous. Sometimes sad, and always worth the read. As a writer too, I agree with what you said about being a writer. Thanks Billy. I am posting a piece in a few hours which is certain to push some buttons, and yes, I too am doing all right. 💛