Against All Odds
One of the traits that I envy about my sister is her spontaneous honesty. Not that she would never lie to anyone, but she will always speak her mind whether you asked for it, or not. Recently, I noticed that she has grown another habit: She will flat out tell you that she has the information you ask for, but she won’t give it to you for the sake of others, or yourself. She doesn’t want to be the cause or center of a conflict, and despite the need for info, I swallow the urge to pry further and nod in understanding.
All this became painfully clear during our latest conversation, on the picturesque docks of the Korenlei.
“She knows. Tine? She knows, I told her.”
-“Oh.” I went silent, as I always do when I want to avoid an response based on emotion. After a few seconds though, I stuck with my original question. “What did she say?”
-“She was… glad, that you found a good girl.”
I had to laugh, I couldn’t help myself. Each respectively distorting the truth, they had managed to make it the complete opposite. There was no chance in hell that her first feeling would have been one of relief. “Glad, huh?”
I’ve known my sister since she was born, and my ex since she was what, 6? I was aware that I was only being told the second half of the conversation between the two, where details were asked and given. I knew my sister would have approved of my girlfriend, and my ex would have said that she was happy to hear that, lying her ass off. She would have wanted me to wait for her, she’s like that.
I expressed my disbelief but was cut off. “I don’t remember literally what she said and I may have misunderstood. I don’t want to start… something.” I knew all too well what that ‘something’ means; I’ve known it for a long time. My ex is angry with me, more and more every day. It’s been months since I heard from her, and at least twice as long since she heard from me. That’s how it always was: she called me long before I called her, unless she wanted to test me and answered the phone furiously. She would hate me right now, and I can’t blame her. To her, it must seem like I lost her like a bad habit. She would be right, in a sense, if you want to ignore the countless nights that I spent, desperately trying to shut down my mind. I never enjoyed a thing about the single life; it’s ironic that, now that I’m "trapped" again, I truly feel free.
It’s inevitable that we will meet, sooner or later. We still have the same friends, share the same city. The question is, how we will deal with that. I wouldn’t mind staring at her from the opposite side of the street and wandering on, but I know she won’t have that. We will talk, if I like it or not, and it. will. Hurt.
One might think that I still live life relative to her, that I see everything in relation to her. That’s only partly right. While I am acutely aware that she would disapprove of most things about me right now, I have chosen to ignore it. It’s my life, and I’m moving on with it. If you would draw ven-diagram of my life right now, you would have a huge circle representing me, my life and the way she left her mark on it, with a tiny dot a small distance away, that would represent her presence. While her memories, her love and influence will remain a part of me for the rest of my life… she will not.
Bear with me. There will come a time when I will stop writing about her, and all of this will be behind me. For now, things remain unresolved and knowing that I indirectly hurt her, troubles me. But, I don’t have to answer to her.
Moving on was evident, locking her out was necessary. She has no reason to be mad at me for it, she made me do it. I could be dead right now if I hadn’t. Instead, I have so much more to live for now- and I won’t apologize for it.
I’ve been dating for nearly two months now. That’s a small miracle to me, the sheer fact that I am still capable of such is enough to raise an eyebrow. What’s more, I managed to do so (not that it was such a difficult feat) without much, if any, support from those around me.
I can count the individuals that were sincerely happy for me when they heard the news, on one hand. But, then, even less were aware of the state I was in after my last relationship crashed, I can’t blame them. Still, it would have been nice to get a few more positive reactions here and there. This is a big thing for me.
Instead, I had to answer a list of questions about where my ex fits into the picture, or was shared an unwelcome opinion on whatever they though had to do with it. In more than one case even, I had to deal with active attempts to “change my mind”, as if this was some hobby I had picked up and would grow bored of, soon. These people now know where they stand, which is facing roughly the other way. If positive comments on something this important is such a difficult thing, I have no business with you.
That is to say, there is one little fuckup that still manages to get through to me. It’s impressive, like a talking dog is impressive. You want to cheer it, give it a cookie and a pat on the head and then drown it in a plastic bag.
As I said to a friend, “It’s much like dealing with a shadow in a dark room. It’s hard to make out and depending of how comfortable you are in the dark, might scare you a little with every movement or sound it makes. But when you figured it out and the lights are on, those same gestures just seem dumb and amusing.” He is still using the same tricks, the same routine to harass me, even when he knows they’re way off target. He’s got nothing more to throw at me, so instead just builds in quantity. Now that I’ve figured out how he does it, my initial fascination has dulled to boredom. His phone number (all five of them, that is) is set to ‘ignore’ on my cell phone, so all there is left for me to do is to tap ‘clear history’ at the end of the day and move on. I’ve been advised to ask help from the helpdesk and alert the police, as they don’t take this lightly, but I don’t want to bother. I rather see my tax money go to… well, anything but the cops.
SO – if you would all just kindly fuck off and allow me my happiness, I’ll move on with my life thanks for nothing?