The Now

This post is being written by an exhausted man.

Today has been a long day for me. This morning i had an inspiration, and wrote a quick post from bed, the one posted below. When it was done, i felt like i had written a thoughtful post about the subject of what i consider a wildly overpowered vibrator, and the thought process it symbolized. i tried to hold the cube up, and consider it from every angle, exposing my thought process to the readers. Although i did receive many supportive comments and messages, i also found myself with a lot of hostile, sarcastic commentary. For the most part, it’s fine – i support free speech, and always welcome comments of all sorts.

But i also had an inescapable sense of having committed an apostasy – that i had deigned to criticize the Hitachi, and, moreover, that i had done it as a man. To some extent, it should have been expected. But, what stung, and stung mightily, was that i was seeing a lot of this contempt from people i had considered friends, people i had defended both publicly and privately, and people i had offered emotional support to, for no reason other than they needed someone to be there. The reason it hurt wasn’t that i expect my friends to agree with me, it was that they were suddenly attacking a caricature of me, one i thought they would know better than to believe. Although i tried to shrug it off, it still lingered as the tide of criticism rose, and eventually i decided that i needed to just leave the discussion.

What bothers me more, though, is that i have been on this blog for three years, and been blogging in  general for six. Some of these same people have known me in both lives. i have spent years writing thoughtful posts where i question myself and my emotions, where i rip out and show my most intimate, and often embarrassing thoughts for everyone to see. There have been a lot of posts i have been ashamed to write, because i didn’t want to admit to the emotions in them, but i put them up anyway, because i want what i write to reflect me, the real me.

And, somehow, all these years of affection for the woman i made my wife in front of your virtual eyes, all these genuine actions i have taken for people, publicly and privately, meant nothing, because i criticized a vibrator, and decided to get philosophical. Suddenly i was arrogant and condescending, telling women they were doing it wrong, and i found myself being slammed for bizarre positions i’ve never held. i was suddenly one of them, those neanderthals. The message to me was simple – we have no memory, we live in the now; this credit you think you’ve built up with us doesn’t exist. i wanted to appeal to people: come on, you know me. You know that this is not what i meant, right? But they were the ones volleying the attacks.

Whatever, right? it’s just a blog. Then the night took a turn.

Mina went out on a great with this guy, Mr. English, she was genuinely excited to meet. All those kissed frogs and finally a decent one. i was thrilled for her, too, because i knew how many layers of disappointment her search had heaped on her, and i also knew that my next European trip was fast approaching. She ahd told me a lot about him, and shown me his pictures, and, well, he really was a catch. So, she set a date up for earlier tonight at 6PM. And so did i.

My date arrived, and Mina went off to the restaurant to meet Mr. English. i enjoyed a pleasant hour or so of company, and she left. Two hours in, she sent me a text letting me know she was having a good time. i replied i was glad, and didn’t want to interrupt. i did some chores around the house, cleaned up the bedroom, and then plopped online. i happily counted out the mounting hours that her date was running, thrilled she was having a good night. Then, at the 3.5 hour mark, someone pointed out that she would be worried. Suddenly the thought process started: Wait, i haven’t heard anything from her. Should i be worried? i’ll text her:

Still good?

No response. i wait about five minutes (Mina is normally a demon when it comes to texting) and i send another.

Hey, little worried.

Nothing. i call. No answer, and i leave a voicemail to call me. Now i’m pacing. A few minutes later, i get these texts:

Sorry, i’m good, yes.

Still talking at the restaurant.

i call her back immediately. No answer. i call again. No answer. Now all the conspiracy gears are turning. Who would hold a table for nearly four hours at a restaurant without making the server hate them. Mina used to wait tables, she knows what that’s like. That doesn’t make sense. How do i know it’s her texting? it could be anyone! Now i have visions of her bound and gagged against her will heading off to who-knows-where, while i try to explain to skeptical cops that my wife was on a date with man. (Did you know adultery is a criminal offense in New York?). So i respond.

Call me.

Silence.

Minutes stretch out. i put my shoes on and grab my car key, and get ready to head to the restuarant to figure out what’s happening. As i’m on my way to the door. She calls. Relieved, i tell her it’s almost ten o’clock and she needs to come home. She says okay, and i can hear the bustle of the restaurant in the background.i am relieved, and i start walking in circles, my hands still shaking from the terror. Finally, i go to Twitter to let everyone know everything is fine:

*sighs* had a panic and called her to tell her to come home. I’m so lame. Just had visions of trying to file the missing person report…

…I just realized I had only gotten texts, and I called a couple times and didn’t answer. Was actually going to drive there till she called

Oh and @mydesire is fine. I just panicked and cut short a good date for nothing. #isuck

For the most part i received a lot of congratulatory messages of relief. One that stood out was this, from @britisshameless

@sylvanus So you’re making her come home because her date is longer than you wanted it to be? Even though you’ve been on dates?

This shot me over the edge. i could already hear the contempt in her voice, and the unspoken “You are such a hypocrite” coming behind it. Part of me wanted to explain that her date was already double the length of any date i had been on, that i hadn’t been hearing from her, and, well, everything you read above. Part of me was still exhausted, since her comments on the Hitachi post mentioned above had been the straw that broke my camel’s back on defending myself, since, 10 days ago, she was the sole commenter on my Tyranny post, and had really gotten it, and appreciated the kind of thought and consideration i put into how i treat women. And suddenly i had been demoted all the way to hypocritical shithead who got jealous because she was doing what he had been doing. i decided to take the short route and told her to go to hell. Her response:

@sylvanus Excuse me? I asked you a question. What the fuck is wrong with you?

At this point i was positively boiling with angry. i asked Twitter to explain it to her:

Can someone please explain to @britisshameless why her question made me angry? I’m still silencing a kidnapping scare and am in no mood.

and jumped in the shower, trying to get myself out of this horrifying place my mind had been in. i got out to this:

@sylvanus Dude. I clearly missed something on the timeline. You could have explained that and not jumped down my throat.

At this point, my thought was, “or, you could have apologized for being wrong.” Of course, she was still trying to defend her question. So i turned, and i opened fire, and absolutely ripped her every way i could, venting every last bit of tension i could find a way to put into 140 character bursts. Shortly thereafter, Mina got home. Her mood was concerned, and rapidly moreso as she became aware of what, exactly, had happened in my head. i felt enormously guilty that i had taken what turned out to be a wonderful, engaging date, and cast this dreadful pall over it. Mina suggested we start putting codewords in to the text so i won’t worry next time. My pulse slowed, and i wanted to be happy for her, but she had a hard time being happy for herself, because she was blaming herself for my dreadful mental state.

Then i went back to check on how the timeline was progressing, and found myself blocked from her timeline. No big shock really. Oh well, what can i do? i took a deep breath, and decided, for the record to recount what i had written above, and to apologize to the person (left unnamed) for my explosion.

At this point, Always Aroused Girl took it upon herself to chide me for not naming the person.

Your apology will only be worthwhile if you address it to HER, @sylvanus . She’s not going to see it in your public timeline.

Of course, this, too, was yet another humilation in two regards. First: she was absolutely right. Second, i’ve known her for years, taken it upon myself to speak up on her behalf when others have attacked her, and this morning she was also taking a turn whipping me on the Hitachi post, and making obliquely sarcastic remarks on the Twitter timeline about it (leaving me unnamed). And she was lecturing me, correctly, about how to apologize. i tried lamely to defend it, and then gave up. So…what the hell could it hurt?

Dear @britisshameless: i apologize for directly a LOT of emotion at you that you didn’t deserve.

Correction: Dear @britisshameless: i apologize for directing a LOT of emotion at you that you didn’t deserve.

She answered:

@sylvanus Thanks. For the record, I *did* check your timeline to see what was up before tweeting, and genuinely must have missed that tweet.

@sylvanus So I’m sorry that it was taken in a way I didn’t mean it, and when I saw the whole thing, I understood why. Glad she’s okay.

And that, as they say, was that.

it’s been a long and difficult day for me, which kinda sucks, because a lot of good things happened today. But i have learned a valuable lesson about how far one’s perception of their own reputation can vary from what it really is.