I sure hope so But I can’t be sure.

On one level, the whole notion seems absurd. Like my paranoid and emotionally stunted self could ever trust someone enough to open up to them like that. Like could even stand to have anyone be that close to me.

Like I could ever someone really touch me.

On the other hand, I can be quite fearless when it comes to closeness, at least if my life as Fruvous is any indication.

When my great empathy is in full operation and I am feeling all warm and sentimental , there is no barrier between me and others that I can’t bypass or overcome.

So I dunno. Perhaps the right fella could push all the right buttons to make me open up like a flower kissed by dawn.

Or I could just fake it.

That’s the moral danger of this issue for me. I might not be in love with him at all, but let him think that I was in order to keep the praise, affection, and free dinners coming.

And I know I’m capable of it because I did it once, a long time ago. There is a furry out there to whom I did grievous emotional harm by not knowing the difference until he basically mortgaged his life to come visit me when I lived in Silicon Valley.

I would hope that I would have learned my lesson and would never ever do that to someone again. But the temptation will always be there.

I haven’t alwa s used my powers for good.

More after the break.

---

Bringing it up

I am beginning to regret having dredged up the memory of the incident detailed above.

Because I really hurt that guy. After him sweet talking me for months, first online and then via long distance phone calls he could ill afford, he finally gets enough money together to come visit, and I end up giving him the cold-ish shoulder because despite my desire for it all to “work”, we failed to connect and he could tell I wasn’t that into him.

I say “cold-ish” because it’s not like I was rude or cruel or hostile to him – though it might have been better for him if I had been.

Then he could have just written me off as an asshole, gotten good and mad, bitched about me to all his friends, and moved on.

Instead, I did what was easier for me but far worse for him : I withdrew emotionally.

I was “present but not really there”. And he could tell. And yet, it’s such a slippery slimy move because it gives the victim nothing concrete to object to or get mad about.

Most people cannot articulate something as ephemeral as “you aren’t emotionally present and that hurts me so much.

So I “get away with it”, in that there’s no confrontation, no anger or pain or sadness clogging up my empathy, and nothing to blame me for.

But the cruel truth is that a good, sweet, kind, and adorable man who loved the heck out of me eagerly and passionately, then with increasing desperation, tried so hard to connect with me emotionally and got absolutely nothing.

I can only imagine what an idealized picture of me he must have had before he had the misfortune of actually meeting me.

He had only known me as that friendly fluffy foxy Fruvous, after all. And he is, in many ways, an idealized version of me.

The real me is a tad more complicated.

What really hurts to think about is that from what I heard about him after he went back home, I am pretty sure he blamed himself.

Like he hadn’t been good enough for me on some level, so I rejected him.

If I could talk to him now, I would tell him that it was all my fault. He was beyond wonderful. Far, far more than “good enough”. He did absolutely nothing wrong.

I just didn’t know how emotionally unavoidable I really was, nor did I know the difference between liking the way someone makes you feel and loving them.

I was in my twenties at the time. There was a lot I didn’t know about myself.

And I am so, so sorry for hurting you like I did. If I could, I would go back in time abd explain everything to you and give you the biggest hug ever.

Now this all happened a long, long time ago, in the mid to late Nineties. Presumably he has recovered from it and moved on with life by now.

Which is good, because from what I heard, he was an absolute wreck afterwards.

I will forever bear the guilt I deserve for what I did.

And I would love to contact him to apologize but I have no way to do so.

How would I possibly find someone I knew 25 years ago when I don’t even remember his real name?

So I will take this burden to the grave with me.

Like I have said before, the absolute worst life lessons are the ones you learn at someone else’s expense.

If you’re out there, Jaeger, I am so, so sorry.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.