I’m lucky in a hundred different ways. sometimes at night in bed at one or two a.m. I will think about how lucky I am and it keeps me awake. now I’ve always written in a selfish way, that is, to please myself. by writing things down I have been better able to live with them.Only one Cervantes, charles bukowski.
I sent him a DM
(the person I thought was one of my favorite authors),
asking him about the kindle version of his book.
He told me it’s available, I just needed to change the location.
End of conversation.
No, He kept the conversation going for a few days.
Asking me questions, I interest him.
I didn’t understand, he didn’t personally know me.
But I liked it.
I liked the fact the someone could find me interesting,
but then his questions took a turn.
What are you doing? Are you in bed?
Throwing hints about how I would lose respect for him if I knew what was in his mind,
I got scared because I liked him it would be amazing if we become friends,
that’s what I thought.
But to him, I was online,
a nonexistent robot that he could use a hookup.
A way to satisfy his desires.
I hold my tears, waiting for him to tell me that I misunderstood him,
I was right, he wanted the ‘beautiful Egyptian girl’ in his fantasies.
I asked him, is that you?
He laughed and said of course.
But how? I asked.
I am a human, he said.
The justification killed me.
Goodbye, I said.
I kept reading his book,
but I could not handle the contradiction between his book and him.
I felt pain and heaviness in my chest.
I got back to him,
how come you wrote this? I asked.
It was only a weak moment with you, I apologize.
My instinct told me,
try to find the good person in him,
so I kept texting,
but he went cold.
Don’t text me again was hidden in his not-so-full-of-life replies.
I stopped. and stopped reading his book.
In fact, I returned it.
A few days after, he posted a picture of him with his new girlfriend.
I wished nothing but the best for them.
I wished he became the best version of himself for her.
But, I am still traumatized by him and the way he looked down on me.