#41

Wednesday, September 25, 2013


Clarity

I couldn't fathom the fact that she wasn't in love with me. I was so delusional and selfish and unaware of both myself and of her that I was positive she was in love with me on some level but refused to admit it to herself. And thus, I viewed everything she did through that lens.

When I broke things off with her and she cried, felt depressed, didn't know what to do with herself - it was because I'd rejected her, broken up with her, and the secret part of her that was in love with me couldn't deal with that. It wasn't because I really was her best friend, sometimes her only friend. It wasn't because I was the only person with whom she really felt comfortable talking about difficult things.

When she wasn't there for me every second that I needed her in a stressful situation, it was because she was punishing me for something and didn't care about our "relationship" anymore. It wasn't because she was terrified of pushing too hard and scaring me out of something everyone knew I had to do to fix myself. It wasn't because she thought she might lose me again, maybe for good.

When she hung out with other guys, she was betraying me - hell, cheating on me - by spending time with them because she was interested in all of them. She wasn't doing it because she had friends other than me just like I had friends other than her. It wasn't because she is fully capable of being nothing more than friends with the opposite sex. It wasn't because she likes meeting new, interesting people the way every human being does.

When she actually did have feelings for other guys and really did do intimate things with them on occasion and then told me about it, it was because she was trying to hurt me, trying to make me jealous, trying to push me away, trying to drive us apart. It wasn't because she was happy or nervous or excited or confused or hurt or sad, and it wasn't because she wanted, sometimes needed, to talk to her best friend about it; nor was it because I would be upset if she didn't tell me.

And when she didn't tell me those things, it was because she was trying to keep secrets from me, lie to me about what was really happening. It wasn't because she was trying to protect me and avoid hurting my feelings, it wasn't because she knew that whether she told me or not, I would get mad at her and blame her for making me feel bad, it wasn't because it probably seemed like the kind, rational thing to do to save me (and her) some immediate pain by not telling me - especially since the outcome would be the same either way.

When she cuddled with me or rested her head on my shoulder or let me sleep next to her, it was because the part of her that was in love with me was trying to be romantic and let itself show despite her denial of it. It wasn't because she's an affectionate person and felt safe with her best friend, and it wasn't because it was comforting to her and to me to do those things.

When she thought about us, the part of her that was in love with me thought about us, as though we were one unit, rather than two separate people in a great, close, deep, caring, loving friendship - a friendship that one of those two people ruined countless times (maybe forever) by failing to realize that there isn't an us, there never was an us; by failing to realize that she never wanted or claimed to want or gave any signs of wanting anything more than a friendship; by failing to realize that the part of her that was in love with me was located in my own head.

God, have mercy, and I ask that she might do the same one last time. I'm a slow learner; don’t let it be too late.