The Blog

  Maybe it is time to get some things off my chest...

I had delayed in posting, because I didn't really feel like wasting my time on them. Frankly, anyone who says something so horribly insulting and then proceed to demand more fiction and add me to the list of people who receive forward emails from them isn't worth addressing, and I'm too busy to deal with such a thing.

But that's not really what I sat down here to write about. You see, something that happened a few days ago has managed to get me all messed up, so that I am crying all the time, and spending my afternoon with my arms up to my elbows in a bucket of soapy water as I wash down the walls in my bedroom, instead of writing my thesis as I had hoped to.

If you'd guessed it was about Chris, you'd be right. It's funny how he still has the ability to get under my skin like this. It's funny how even though when I'm with my friends I call him 'gitboy' and make all of these dispariging comments about him, in my mind he is still Chris, and a small part of me still thinks the rest of me mad for always being so rude when I don't mean it at all. It's funny how he still wants to be my friend, and how a part of me still wants that attention. It's so funny, but I'm not laughing at all.
I never really talked to anyone about what happened during those dreadful days, not really.
I was working on the day I found out what he had done. The so-called "Bright Hart" (I'm not sure if it was that he couldn't spell or if he thought her a dear when he named her that) told me that he had been dating, and generally having a wonderful time, with first her, and then her friend, and that he was planning on asking her friend to marry him. That was the first I had heard anything about this.
During a break between classes, I sent him an email, asking for confirmation, all the time feeling scummy for ever doubting his feelings. An hour later, I got a reply, and this is what it said:

"Sorry about that. My computer crashed.
Anyway, now you know the truth. I'm so sorry.
Chris"

I sent him an email back, saying that I didn't get whatever it was that was sent before, if indeed there was anything, and all I was told was that he had no time left and that he would tell me again one time. He never did. So there I was, doing my best to keep my thoughts and face impassive as I took several practical classes, and all the time not knowing what or why or how or anything other than he was sorry.
And indeed, to this day, all I have heard is that he is sorry, and that that had been a horrible time for him. But he would like to still be my friend.
Not once did he stop to ask if I was having a horrible time. It was only the presence of Heidi and Tony and James that kept me from going mad. I would go home at night, and dream of death, dream of it taking me in its sweet embrace and carrying me to a place where I would no longer feel anything. No pain, no heartbreak, no sorrow. No questions.
It was the questions that hurt the most. "What did I do wrong?" was the most prevailant, but "What is wrong with me?" rated a close second. Because what went wrong was without doubt my fault. I was not beautiful enough, I did not try hard enough, was not kind enough, was not and would never be worthy of his attentions. It was a wonder he had waited that long before betraying my emotions. Because my emotions were not deserving of his respect, or anyone's.
Those self-doubts that have plagued me my entire life were brought back, fuller and more powerful than ever before, and there was nothing there to stop them save the love of my friends, who saved me from myself and eventually led me back to a place where I could believe that I was not the scum of the earth whose only purpose was to be trodden on.
And yet, he continues to email me on a semi-regular basis, hoping to regain the easy friendship we had once possessed. He cannot understand that he is one of the chains that bind me to my sorrow.
He does not understand that he is responsible for the dreams that plague me now, where James, who has done nothing to ever make me doubt him, leaves me behind for some blonde who looks suspiciously like the descriptions of the girl Chris was dating at the time, so that I wake up crying and knowing that it is my destiny to be alone, betrayed by all.
He does not understand how I could be upset when I found that he was reading the message boards that James had set up for me so that I could have a place to talk with my friends where he could not find me and hurt me. That I could be upset when I found that he had no intention of ever letting me know that he was reading those thoughts that I had posted for my friends alone to read. He would not even know those forums existed if my sister hadn't told him, for they are not listed in any search engine (I checked this morning, so I know this is the case). He was so eager to know what people had been saying about him, he didn't stop to think about what those emotions could have represented. It would be as if one of my siblings found my secret diary and published it here. I feel dirty, and the message boards have been tainted by his dishonourable behaviour.
He said that he only came to the boards because he wanted to understand. Well, I have been trying to understand for close to two years now, and I still do not understand. I've given up on understanding, for I know it will not come.
What I do have is the hard-won acceptance that I am who I am and that nothing was been my fault, no matter what my sister or his many girlfriends have told me. I don't always believe it, but when James holds me in his arms and tells me that he loves me, I have to believe that I am deserving of his attentions. That I am a person who is worthy of being praised and adored and loved.
Otherwise Chris really will have won.

Labels: this was before tags