You Called?

April 06, 2017

You Called?

I’ll bet you thought I wasn’t going to write about this. I’ll bet you thought your actions had flown under the radar. I’ll bet you thought enough time had gone by and that I had just forgotten about how cruel and inconsiderate you were that one day last month. No Adrian*, I’ve just dealt with enough of your bullshit to know that time is the only thing that helps me rationalize the shit you do.

I hadn’t spoken to you in three years, ever since the day your vehicle (the one that was in my name) finally got repossessed. After that was over, I blocked your number and your Facebook too. I had finally abolished the last remaining reason to keep contact with you, and I was happy to no longer have to keep a means of communication. I told you that if you ever needed to contact me in the future that you could do so through email and email only. I immediately received an email that day with unkind words about my face. By that point, your unkind words read as empty and meaningless, mimicked from somewhere else like an old, forgotten parrot hanging from the corner of Seth Macfarlane’s bathroom.

After that, there was a deep sigh of relief and a calm after the storm. I felt light and airy knowing I’d never have to speak with you again.

Thought… I thought I’d never have to speak with you again.

I thought I had made the email clause very clear. But alas, you were never one to follow directions. Or laws. Or really any type of rule for that matter.

I was sitting at my computer last month, minding my own business, and my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, but I have family in the area code, so I picked up the phone. A slew of profanity and anger came through, followed by a click.

I didn’t know it was you. I didn’t understand anything you said during that first call, but something in me must have somehow known it was you from the beginning, because my world suddenly went black with anger and fear.

Now, before I continue, I should tell you (not you Adrian, the universal you) that apparently this was not just a random harassing phone call. It had been provoked. I had provoked it, allegedly, just as I had “provoked” Adrian to do angry things all those times before. What did I do? And was it worth him paying me a string of harassing phone calls? I’ll let you (the universal you) be the judge…

You know how on Instagram, there’s those lists of suggested people to follow taken from people in your contacts, followers of followers, people who have recently Insta-stalked you, people who post stuff similar to stuff you’ve liked, and whatnot? Well, I use that list to follow people all over the world. Fashion bloggers, food bloggers, photographers, painters, models, and meme-ers of the most random variety. Why? Because it’s Instagram, and that’s what it’s used for.

So, what happened was, one day last month I followed some new people from the suggestion list. What’s funny is, I see your family on there all the time (back you the you-you, Adrian) and I always hit the “X-out” instead of “Follow” when I do. I guess I missed one, or I didn’t realize the person I had followed (presumably an artist, so go figure) was a friend of yours.

And I guess your friend mentioned it to you, and that made you angry. My bad…

So you called me and screamed at me, and after a torturous round of phone-tag, I figured out it was you. I told you to never call me. I told you that email was the only form of contact you were to use if you ever had to talk to me in the future. I feel like an email would have sufficed just fine for this latest concern, but rules just really aren’t your thing, are they?

I used email that day to reinstate the email rule, and here are the results. Maybe this is petty, maybe this is mean, but in my opinion and many others, abusers need to be called out on their shit. And that, my friends, is why silence is crap.