why i will never apologize for communicating through writing

If you've read the previous post, then you may remember something The Grad Student said to me in his voicemail asking me to discuss my decision not to see him anymore over coffee: "I'm a little hurt that you didn't call me or tell me this in person, and just sent me an email. I hope we can get together for coffee and talk about this in a mature way."

Was I pissed? Yes, I was pissed, especially about that little dig at my maturity. I went to talk to him anyway, because I'm a fan of face-to-face confrontation in theory, and disciplined to face-to-face confrontation in practice (I hate hurting people's feelings as a general rule, so I don't really enjoy confrontation, but I will do it when necessary).

And in the course of the conversation, he brought up again the fact that I chose to tell him of my decision in an email. This is what I said:

"I'm not going to apologize for that. I live in the written word. I'm a writer. It's what I do and who I am. I express myself most clearly and thoughtfully through writing, and when I get the chance, I do it.

"Also, I don't talk on the phone much with bare acquaintances. I talk on the phone at extended lengths with my parents, my sister, my best friend from home, and when I'm playing catch-up with my college friends. That's it. For everyone else, I use the phone as a means of gathering information -- 'Hey, I have a question.' 'What are you doing tonight?' 'Meet you there in five.' etc. And I've had enough unpleasant and sticky phone conversations with people that if I have to have a serious talk with someone, I don't do it over the phone. I hate the phone for that type of thing.

"And I'm not going to call you or send you an email saying, 'We need to talk. Can we meet later to discuss it?' Come on. Then you're edgy and wondering all day what you're possibly going to talk about, and dreading it.

"So by sending you an email, you had advance notice of what was coming. It's the most thoughtful, 'mature' means I have of communicating, and I will never apologize for that."

Now, I understand, as Laura pointed out, that I owed him no explanation for myself, my habits, or my decisions. But as I like the clearest communication that I can achieve with the human beings in my life, I didn't mind explaining. And I wasn't going to sit there and get criticized for who I am and how I do things. And I sure as hell wasn't going to apologize.

Just a little shout-out to the writers out there who also live by the word. And to those of us who think in-depth "friend break-up" phone conversations are stupid. And to those of us who refuse to be browbeaten by manipulative, high-horsey people who don't know their own minds.

(The farther I get away from the conversation, the angrier it makes me. I don't like when I KNOW a person has an agenda in regards to my personhood and friendship. And he condescended to me a lot, under a veneer of concern -- and he probably only thought he was being concerned. Things like, "I hope you learn how to rely on other people. My mother carried a lot through her life, and in the past few years crashed, because she couldn't carry it anymore. You really need to be able to be interdependent." And, "You seem like you have the outcome of this conversation all decided." And, "I hugged you lovingly, and you maintained the hug." "Yeah, that would be a mutual maintenance," I said. [Don't blame ME for your behavior, buster.]

Gah. There was something terribly cloying about his touch, and his attempts to explain himself, and his veiled threat at never being able to date me if he couldn't know me first as a friend. I don't like when people try to weave a web of subtle coercion around me.

And golly, I haven't been mad about anything in forever. Just blah, or nil, or sad, or in despair. Anger is a little refreshing for a change.)