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18 March 2009
Wouldn't it be cool if .... →[More:] the FBI really looked for you when you went missing for five hours?
The day after my wife and I split, I went to meet a friend in Baltimore. The friend was late to arrive, so I thought I'd phone home and check to see if I had any messages (these were the days before cell phones).
Again, it was less than 24 hours after the split, and I hadn't called my parents or told anyone, really, what had happened. There'd be time, you know? So I was rather surprised to find to a string of increasingly panicked messages from my family, over the span of about 3 hours. My (now ex) wife is friends with my brother's wife, and they'd talked. My brother had called to talk to me. When he didn't hear from me for a few hours, he talked to my parents, who called, and, again, got no answer. So my brother and father decided that they needed to drive the 250 miles to DC to check on me, and they needed to do it right then.
Thankfully, I was able to get a message through to them that, no, I wasn't suicidal or lying in a ditch somewhere, that I'd just gone to visit a friend. I ended up not coming home until 4 am or so--I cannot imagine what it would have been like to come home to find them at my house, all wild-eyed and worried. I mean, I did appreciate the concern, but I felt then, as I still do, that maybe my utter lack of history of ever doing anything to harm myself should have assuaged their concern a bit, at least enough to make them not feel not compelled to drive through the night to rescue me.