THE IDEA OF WHITE LIES...IS A LIE
this isnt about one girl. it never has been. this has always been about bigger implications ive felt have been implied with each and ever disappointment and failure. every action or less than pure action on my part or that of others destroys a part of me and makes me doubt the intrinsic good of people. and here i am realizing that the person i thought i knew would do something that i never imagined her having the capacity for.
having been thrown aside as though everything...was nothing, ive wondered about the implications of this new development. and realized i was being used from the start. strung along until someone better...shinier, less flawed, more desired, came to their senses.
i was given a mandate with an expiration from the begining and i was too happy, naive, stupid, whatever, to realize it. and what doubts i had i brushed off as my neurosis...being paranoid, ridiculous. "hey! this is what makes you crazy alan, you cant even let yourself be happy!"
but the neurosis was right. something was off. i was being used. or at least given a taste...given it with the hope that it would satisfy me.
she never even changed the relationship status on her myspace. he said with a wry smile that wasnt without irony.
and there was someone else. someone who she wanted and didnt want her. not until, conviently enough, she relented to my endless advances. ones that were thought to be fruitless until the one night when the conversation took a turn it never did before. that someone else took priority however. and my happiness was short lived.
and yet whenever the suggestion was voiced that maybe there was someone else there, i immediately voiced my confidence that she wouldnt have lied to me. not after everything. she placed more value on our friendship than that.
(and i defended her. recklessly and without question.)
but didnt she lie to you before?
yes but with the intention of not hurting me. shes naive, and people far older and wiser make the same mistake of telling white lies.
shes a bitch alan, fickle and insecure. and most certainly not a giant intellectually.
you just dont know her like i do. there is more to her than you think. she does feel, she does hurt, she isnt cold and manipulating. and most certainly would never hurt someone with intent or malice.
shes a monster alan.
oh come on. do monsters cry? do they? ive heard/seen her cry. her tears have dampened my shirt. monsters most certainly dont cry.
"emotions have always held us in an inescapable grip. its been asked how could any person be a monster? can any man be accused of being heartless? monsters certainly cant cry! to which i respond, of course they can just not for anyone but themselves."--oscar wilde.
did she stand to lose anything in this transaction? this trade of a beat up old pinto that has taken her from one coast to the other for a shiny jag?
i liked to think she did. she stood to lose a friend. to hurt me. certainly someone who read Blankets, who watched sunsets with a look of awe on her face, who cried at the end of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory...certainly someone like that couldnt just do that. brush aside a friendship, use someone she shared these moments with. she wouldnt be the person i knew if she did.
and yet here i am wondering if i made her up in my head. i have been talking to her enough in my head for the last three weeks as one development after another has plunged me repeatedly back into what she moved past two minutes after ending it. ive been waiting to hear her voice whisper "hiiiii" into the phone every time it rings. just now ive seen her sn sit there, taunting me with its familiarity before eventually turning a faded white.waiting for an apology thats yet to come...and probably never will.
when i force myself to look at the bottom of her myspace and with a sinking feeling see the "in a relationship". it is at these moments that i wonder how the person i talked to every day and every night, sometimes three or four times within 5 hours...how they could exist without a sign that they still do.
i must have made her up.
i must have.
there is a cold and unfeeling manipulating machine in the place that i thought i saw a like soul. the tears were shed for herself. her feelings DO change without any concern or thought as to who they might hurt. long term consequences continue to elude her. and yet im the one to feel the effects of this callousness.
the dawning of the realization that she was "talking" to this guy while we were dating. the revalation that there was a possibilty the words "Sure, i just need to breakup with this guy im with" were said, came like a sucker-punch to my gut.
i made excuses for her. defended her. championed the faith in her well intentions.
and yet im the one to feel the sting of a disaffected youth.
and yet i want so strongly to believe in the good in people.
to believe in the good in her.
there is good in her.
i wouldnt have seen it if there wasnt.
i wouldnt have had the imagination to make that up.
how deep its buried...how long im willing to wait for it to surface again...how much id give too see it again. well.
very...not much longer...anything.
having been thrown aside as though everything...was nothing, ive wondered about the implications of this new development. and realized i was being used from the start. strung along until someone better...shinier, less flawed, more desired, came to their senses.
i was given a mandate with an expiration from the begining and i was too happy, naive, stupid, whatever, to realize it. and what doubts i had i brushed off as my neurosis...being paranoid, ridiculous. "hey! this is what makes you crazy alan, you cant even let yourself be happy!"
but the neurosis was right. something was off. i was being used. or at least given a taste...given it with the hope that it would satisfy me.
she never even changed the relationship status on her myspace. he said with a wry smile that wasnt without irony.
and there was someone else. someone who she wanted and didnt want her. not until, conviently enough, she relented to my endless advances. ones that were thought to be fruitless until the one night when the conversation took a turn it never did before. that someone else took priority however. and my happiness was short lived.
and yet whenever the suggestion was voiced that maybe there was someone else there, i immediately voiced my confidence that she wouldnt have lied to me. not after everything. she placed more value on our friendship than that.
(and i defended her. recklessly and without question.)
but didnt she lie to you before?
yes but with the intention of not hurting me. shes naive, and people far older and wiser make the same mistake of telling white lies.
shes a bitch alan, fickle and insecure. and most certainly not a giant intellectually.
you just dont know her like i do. there is more to her than you think. she does feel, she does hurt, she isnt cold and manipulating. and most certainly would never hurt someone with intent or malice.
shes a monster alan.
oh come on. do monsters cry? do they? ive heard/seen her cry. her tears have dampened my shirt. monsters most certainly dont cry.
"emotions have always held us in an inescapable grip. its been asked how could any person be a monster? can any man be accused of being heartless? monsters certainly cant cry! to which i respond, of course they can just not for anyone but themselves."--oscar wilde.
did she stand to lose anything in this transaction? this trade of a beat up old pinto that has taken her from one coast to the other for a shiny jag?
i liked to think she did. she stood to lose a friend. to hurt me. certainly someone who read Blankets, who watched sunsets with a look of awe on her face, who cried at the end of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory...certainly someone like that couldnt just do that. brush aside a friendship, use someone she shared these moments with. she wouldnt be the person i knew if she did.
and yet here i am wondering if i made her up in my head. i have been talking to her enough in my head for the last three weeks as one development after another has plunged me repeatedly back into what she moved past two minutes after ending it. ive been waiting to hear her voice whisper "hiiiii" into the phone every time it rings. just now ive seen her sn sit there, taunting me with its familiarity before eventually turning a faded white.waiting for an apology thats yet to come...and probably never will.
when i force myself to look at the bottom of her myspace and with a sinking feeling see the "in a relationship". it is at these moments that i wonder how the person i talked to every day and every night, sometimes three or four times within 5 hours...how they could exist without a sign that they still do.
i must have made her up.
i must have.
there is a cold and unfeeling manipulating machine in the place that i thought i saw a like soul. the tears were shed for herself. her feelings DO change without any concern or thought as to who they might hurt. long term consequences continue to elude her. and yet im the one to feel the effects of this callousness.
the dawning of the realization that she was "talking" to this guy while we were dating. the revalation that there was a possibilty the words "Sure, i just need to breakup with this guy im with" were said, came like a sucker-punch to my gut.
i made excuses for her. defended her. championed the faith in her well intentions.
and yet im the one to feel the sting of a disaffected youth.
and yet i want so strongly to believe in the good in people.
to believe in the good in her.
there is good in her.
i wouldnt have seen it if there wasnt.
i wouldnt have had the imagination to make that up.
how deep its buried...how long im willing to wait for it to surface again...how much id give too see it again. well.
very...not much longer...anything.