Earlier this evening, I posted an old photo I like a lot because it is a happy photo. The photo also is a sad photo because, as a loving Dad to my kid Scott, my choices affect his life directly. This is my Facebook post.
The worstest part of parting ways with a lass is my kid would lose a friend. Guitar Hero evenings were cool fun.
For whatever reason I don’t care to understand, this post garnered a comment unbecoming.
I deleted a horribly misguided comment stating I was ridiculing the lass (Duckee) in this photo. Further, this commenter had the audacity to claim omniscience of all Facebook users and that no one cares about people from my recovery journey, and that I constantly ridicule women.
Sadly, this person missed the point of this post, which is the lament I feel when a relationship ends, and someone my son was close with leaves his life as well. Duckee and Scott were good friends.
This sort of unnecessary exposition merely bolsters the sad reality of netizen projection of their own fears, hang ups, and concoctions based on pure text and resultant distorted understanding.
That said, who’s got time to read such entitled gibberish? To protect this person from my pseudo-abusive words, I’ve levied them a favor and blocked them. You’re welcome.
I will not risk my wellness and recovery to assuage another’s insecurities.
And this will become a Thoughtcrimes article later, once I stop giggling.