2 May 2011

I have trusted you for two long years. I have taken your words at face value; I have put them in little frames and hung them on my wall. They are 2-dimensional; they are what I have started with. I have not had any reason to doubt their reality; I have not had any reason to find them imperfect or unbeautiful.

And yet, it’s ironic that those very words, although they were not to me, were able to shatter my vision. They are able to break my thoughts in half and cut into my mind like a knife to a hardened, violated heart. I never claim to have lied, although I know I have; but I never expected you to do the same.

It’s not selfish of me to have these expectations. It’s not unrealistic to think that I could have forgotten all of the past trespasses to my heart that others have made. It’s not unrealistic to think that I did and still find love once again. But even the simplest love is laid on the foundations of trust. I have loved because I have trusted. I have been hurt because I have trusted--you.

But I’m not sure. And I want proof. And you aren’t willing to give it, and my logic just takes over and psychology and sociology and everything that I’ve ever known to be true about other people seems to make all of these years into white lies, untold stories of nights and days and notes and messages to a whim. Something that only you understand. Something that I cannot understand because you will not let me.

So I beg you. I hold steadfast, though. I will not lose my dignity again, not to something that I know to be right.

sometimes I wish I had never met you.

Beyond all self-righteousness holds an evident truth that there is a full picture in a glimpse. There is always truth behind a suspicion. I try, trying to sort through the suspicions myself; but without truth, there is no resolution. There is no happy ending. There is naught. 

3-30-2010: I've been seeing a lot of posts about friendships lately.

EDIT 4-1-2011: So, this is where I was a year ago. This was that one post about friendship that I thought had gotten deleted (accidentally) forever ago.

and this is why I date Johnathan Bailey...

What Johnathan Bailey says about himself:

I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently. Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row.



I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing, I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unrellenting speed, and I cook Thirty-Minute Brownies in twenty minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru.


Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play bluegrass cello, I was scouted by the Mets, I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I'm bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard.


I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.


I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don't perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and have won the weekend passes. Last summer I toured New Jersey with a travelling centrifugal-force demonstration. I bat .400. My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me.


I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations for the CIA. I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me.

I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact origami. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four course meals using only a mouli and a toaster oven. I breed prize winning clams. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken with Elvis.

Obviously, he is awesome like that.