Tag Archives: tears

The Little Lie

I do my best to remain truthful in all aspects of my life, including avoiding “white lies.” My non-essential memory bank tends to resemble room temperature Swiss cheese: little holes where things can just slip through and the rest is kinda gummy that holds on tightly to things that land on it. Phone numbers for elementary-school friends are in the gummy section, lies easily fall through the holes. Aside from the generic “Okay” response to the person in the elevator that asks how I’m doing, I try to remain honest.

But there’s this little lie I’ve been telling people I don’t know well, mostly people in my office building. I’ve been telling this little lie for a few months and I’ve told it twice today.

Twice today two people who don’t know each other told me at different times of the day that my pants are looking like they’re going to fall off. I replied, as I do anytime someone says something like that, with, “Oh, thank you,” kinda blushed a little and tried to avoid their eyes… because I knew what they were going to say next and I knew I was going to tell them a lie.

“How are you losing weight?” or “What’s your secret?”

Because people in my office don’t need to know the intimate details of my mind or emotions, because people in my office don’t know anything about me aside from my typing speed, because I know my voice will catch and my eyes will start to water, because I know the truth hurts me more than the lie hurts them… I lie.

“Oh, just paying closer attention to what I eat.”

Because people in my office don’t need to know that break-up depression is affecting my appetite. Because people in my office don’t need to know that I’ll be hungry, start to cook something, and then remember how he liked it or how he’d put red pepper flakes all over it or that he didn’t like it, and suddenly my heart is in my throat making it hard to swallow, my stomach is churning and threatening nausea, my mind is rapidly running down guilt-trip lane and I can’t think about food anymore.

Because people in my office don’t need to know that break-up depression is the most effective diet I’ve been on in years.

Because people in my office don’t need to know this, I tell a little lie.

I’m Happy That I’m Sad

Can you really mourn over something that is not really lost? Can you miss something if you never even had it in the first place?

A couple of weeks ago I made a new friend. I wrote about him before but I didn’t want to say too much because I wasn’t sure if our budding friendship was really going to make a difference in my life. I had hoped it would. I think he had, too. At least, I hope he had.

But life has taken a different turn for him. He’s moving out of state and so I won’t have a chance to get to know him like I wanted. I’m happy for the opportunity he will have because of this move but I’m sad for me. We really connected the first time we met and I was looking forward to adding to my small collection of friends that I truly form a bond with. And, I’m not afraid to say, I had hoped that our friendship would blossom into something more.

It’s strange, feeling this sense of loss over something that was never really mine. We had a wonderful night of conversation and clicking and laughing. But that’s all it really was. One night of marvelous conversation over drinks. And yet — I’m sad.

He gave me hope. Hope that I might finally leave this depression and loneliness and feeling of unworthiness behind me. Hope that I might someday again truly connect with someone on a deeper level. Hope that there really is someone out there that wants to be with me. Hope that someday someone will see that the broken parts of me are still a beautiful part of the whole and will love me for who I am, not just for who they think I could be. Hope that I won’t be alone for the rest of my life.

I mourn and embrace my loss of the possibility of his presence in my life because in his kind words and acceptance I could forget my pain. I could be me again.

That one night changed me inside more than I thought would be possible anytime soon.

And for that I am grateful to him.

To my “ugly duckling”: thank you. I wish you could know the measure of the tremendous and wonderful impact you have had on my life.

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Tears

I’ve been doing ok the last couple of weeks. Had a girlfriend Carrie over and she let me cry and get mad and didn’t judge. She nudged me to go out and be with people. While out with Carrie one night I met a guy and we hit it off. We talked long into the night and swapped digits. I’m hoping to see him again soon.

Today, while checking emails between Doctor Who episodes on Netflix on my Apple TV, my screensaver started up. And there are pictures of him still on it.

I went through my phone and deleted nearly 100 pictures from my Photo Stream to prevent it from happening again.

And now I can’t see for all the tears.

Damn.

When will it stop hurting?