Wednesday, September 24, 2003
BITTER? PARTY OF ONE? YOUR TABLE IS READY...
And he emailed today. Not a personal email, mind you. Just a mass email to all his “friends.” Of course, I’ll use the term loosely because I know the truth: he doesn’t have any. You may think I’m bitter when I make such a comment but I promise you, it is true. In the entire 8 months we dated, I met one friend. ONE. And he was someone who lived several states away, so it wasn’t like they were even close.
Of course, that is neither here nor there, so onwards and forwards with my consternation. The thing that bothers me is that I KNOW he sent the email to prove something to me. He, of no friends, and who lives in a constant shroud of darkness; he, who confessed to me in his weakest of moments that he is alone in this world and worries that no one will care for him when he dies; he, whose world revolves solely around the care of his three cats; he, who hides and cries in the blackness of his closet, alone and depressed for hours at a time; he, who spends hours locked in his recording studio playing sorrowful and pitiful dirges that he calls “music”; he, who refuses to answer telephone calls and abhors the normalcy of the world around him… HOW IS IT POSSIBLE THAT HE SUDDENLY HAS AN INFINITE AMOUNT OF FRIENDS TO EMAIL?
Even more puzzling is the fact that my name was on the list. I know, I know, I know he sent the email to send me a message: “See? I’m doing just fine without you. I have my friends, I have my travel, I have my music and you are not a thought in my mind.” I am quite certain that this is not the case. I am 80% sure he sent the email in the hope that I would email him back, and we could talk again, so that it wouldn't look like he was making the first move. Or maybe he's met someone new (I pity the fool!)- and hopes that I email him back so that he can drop this new information and shock me.
Why am I so angry? So passionate? So torn? So flustered? Because I have to persuade all who will hear that he is doing this to be manipulative. This is how he is. I'm worried that because you do not know his beguiling ways you'll think I’m just suffering from a case of very sour grapes; however, I assure you my words contain no hint of prevarication.
And how does he have the energy to write me an email? And from where did he muster up the superfluous good cheer and sunshine that's been splattered between the words? When did he finish crying? When did he find spare time in between the long lonely hours of sulking in the blackness of the night? When did he rise and tear himself away from his mysterious and cryptic lyric-writing to put a chink in my life? When did he get over me? Is there a magic formula he is using? And if so, where can one buy it? Why am I not also privy to the efficacious panacea of a broken and bruised heart? Why should the secrets of self-healing be revealed to him and not I? Tell me honestly, how does one shut off one's heart? One's feelings?
... perhaps his kind do not possess hearts.
Was it not just yesterday that I congratulated myself on how well I was doing? I was moving on, forgetting, licking my wounded pride and recovering from the fact that such a one as I would be duped into his abominable, manipulative cycle. As I rose from the ashes strengthened by the silver lining on that proverbial cloud of hope he reached out from the depths of his inner hell, and with his long arm of evil- cloaked in spite and self-torment- he ripped the caverns of my heart, shredding it with his scraggly talons of retribution....all in the form of his pretentious email.
When will I breathe? When I will rest? When will I stop seeing his image burned into my eyes every time I smell, taste, touch, hear anything that remotely reminds me of him? Dear God! Is there no peace to be had in my life?
Senselessly, I hate him.
Shamelessly, I hate him.
Righteously, I hate him.
I hate, and I feel no remorse.
And he emailed today. Not a personal email, mind you. Just a mass email to all his “friends.” Of course, I’ll use the term loosely because I know the truth: he doesn’t have any. You may think I’m bitter when I make such a comment but I promise you, it is true. In the entire 8 months we dated, I met one friend. ONE. And he was someone who lived several states away, so it wasn’t like they were even close.
Of course, that is neither here nor there, so onwards and forwards with my consternation. The thing that bothers me is that I KNOW he sent the email to prove something to me. He, of no friends, and who lives in a constant shroud of darkness; he, who confessed to me in his weakest of moments that he is alone in this world and worries that no one will care for him when he dies; he, whose world revolves solely around the care of his three cats; he, who hides and cries in the blackness of his closet, alone and depressed for hours at a time; he, who spends hours locked in his recording studio playing sorrowful and pitiful dirges that he calls “music”; he, who refuses to answer telephone calls and abhors the normalcy of the world around him… HOW IS IT POSSIBLE THAT HE SUDDENLY HAS AN INFINITE AMOUNT OF FRIENDS TO EMAIL?
Even more puzzling is the fact that my name was on the list. I know, I know, I know he sent the email to send me a message: “See? I’m doing just fine without you. I have my friends, I have my travel, I have my music and you are not a thought in my mind.” I am quite certain that this is not the case. I am 80% sure he sent the email in the hope that I would email him back, and we could talk again, so that it wouldn't look like he was making the first move. Or maybe he's met someone new (I pity the fool!)- and hopes that I email him back so that he can drop this new information and shock me.
Why am I so angry? So passionate? So torn? So flustered? Because I have to persuade all who will hear that he is doing this to be manipulative. This is how he is. I'm worried that because you do not know his beguiling ways you'll think I’m just suffering from a case of very sour grapes; however, I assure you my words contain no hint of prevarication.
And how does he have the energy to write me an email? And from where did he muster up the superfluous good cheer and sunshine that's been splattered between the words? When did he finish crying? When did he find spare time in between the long lonely hours of sulking in the blackness of the night? When did he rise and tear himself away from his mysterious and cryptic lyric-writing to put a chink in my life? When did he get over me? Is there a magic formula he is using? And if so, where can one buy it? Why am I not also privy to the efficacious panacea of a broken and bruised heart? Why should the secrets of self-healing be revealed to him and not I? Tell me honestly, how does one shut off one's heart? One's feelings?
... perhaps his kind do not possess hearts.
Was it not just yesterday that I congratulated myself on how well I was doing? I was moving on, forgetting, licking my wounded pride and recovering from the fact that such a one as I would be duped into his abominable, manipulative cycle. As I rose from the ashes strengthened by the silver lining on that proverbial cloud of hope he reached out from the depths of his inner hell, and with his long arm of evil- cloaked in spite and self-torment- he ripped the caverns of my heart, shredding it with his scraggly talons of retribution....all in the form of his pretentious email.
When will I breathe? When I will rest? When will I stop seeing his image burned into my eyes every time I smell, taste, touch, hear anything that remotely reminds me of him? Dear God! Is there no peace to be had in my life?
Senselessly, I hate him.
Shamelessly, I hate him.
Righteously, I hate him.
I hate, and I feel no remorse.
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