30 Days of Truth: Day 10
Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn't know
Maybe a few years ago, I met this guy online on this forum I went to. Don’t get me wrong. We started talking a lot over email. I was having a tough time and no therapist, so he was kind of a placebo. We sent each other lengthy emails of several thousand words, discussed philosophical issues and normal issues. I liked it. But I noticed our relationship was becoming a 21st century taboo. He was a 50-something American male. I was a 17-year-old girl from Northern Europe.
At first he tried to hit on me. I told him I wasn’t interested, and on top of which I was not even interested in people of his sex. Past that, it was normal conversation. Helpful conversation. I guess, though, it could have been a method of reeling me in. I have had my fair share of clashes with internet predators – I think I have a filter. But maybe I was biased.
After a few months I started getting emails from his wife. She did not appreciate our relationship, be it platonic and merely conversational, and she also said he was spending more time with me than he was spending with his own daughter, a few years younger than me.
I ignored this. But she grew adamant I leave him alone. It got this funny the-other-woman feeling even though that wasn’t even nearly the case. I was, so to speak, the other kid. He would call me pet names. I guess I looked through them. I was in a bad situation with both my parents — the almost parental conversation was welcomed.
Then I started hearing the true version of things. Apparently this nice man had been lying to me about several things, most of which I had been critical in the first place. We’d go months without speaking and he’d contact me again, desperately. I was stuck as the middleman between an ill-fated marriage thousands of miles away.
After a while, as it got more absurd by the day, I ceased all contact. I can easily find both his wife and daughter on facebook. Him, though — it’s like he never existed. I know he had some sort of online-mistress, or several.
I sometimes forget I ever even met him.