In all seriousness, I wouldn't put such a personal item in contact with such a filthy surface. But that's just me, and I hate the idea of needing antibiotics for something more pestilent than my recurrent respiratory infections.
I'd thought that after I failed to show any interest, he would leave me alone, but a couple of days ago he started up again, from a new phone number. Still signing his messages with the same idiotic moniker. Apparently, he has masculinity issues, hence the nickname, the photos, and the assumption that I want to sext with him (ICK!), though he's openly admitting he has a girlfriend and she allegedly has been encouraging him to harass me. Well, at least THIS one didn't lie altogether about his marital status (or did he?) and then cheat on her, all the while lying to me about his availability. Not that it made me any more interested. I wasn't.
You shouldn't date if you're not single or divorced, whatever your intentions. "We're separated," is the rallying cry of the philanderer. (Men are badly enough behaved when they're single.) If I had stuck with my own negativity and held onto my suspicions, I wouldn't have been any less hurt by the liar. Should I have known better? Well, yes. I'd caught him in too many lies in the past but I wanted to believe there was a good person in there -- maybe he'd been somehow redeemed. I was wrong. Being positive and believing the best of someone was precisely the wrong thing to do. Now he has defriended me on Facebook and I have no idea why, but since he turned out to be a really bad friend after all, I suppose that's appropriate.
Oddly enough, I wasn't referring to him as a sleazy creep, though he certainly jumped off that pedestal I had wrongly placed him on for fifteen+ years. Silly me, I paid attention to only the good I could see. I was wrong. Blame him for the wall I've built since then, bricked with each bad relationship and mortared with my blood and tears.... Wow, that's flowery and pretentious crap. There's an icy wall, but I'm the only one who cares.
Anyway, I wasn't interested in being icked out by a sleazy stranger who claims to know me, and the creepy photos did not inspire me. They certainly didn't thrill me. My day isn't a progression of thoughts about sleazy sex and fulfilling others' sick fantasies. I'm just not interested, and I'm not ruled by hormones. I suppose I have to press charges to make this guy stop harassing me. He'd better hope that breaking this law isn't going to require his registration as a sex offender, but hey, I told him to stop it before and he didn't cooperate.