Wednesday, January 5, 2011

stranger than fiction

some fictionalization:




so, that was it.

"that was it?"

yeah.

"it must be hard, after like half your life, to lose someone you loved."

loved?  well, it's not like she died or anything.  and i don't know about love.  love is such a strong term...i don't know if i've really ever been in love before.

"you loved her."

did i?  that seems almost accusatory there.  (sigh) maybe, if i were to apply some sort of storge love concept to it, then sure, you might be right.  but...i'm not so sure of the eros type...

"it's plain and simple.  you're complicating it too much.  you're just overintellectualizing."

what...no.  am i?  i'm not.  what?  bleh.  meh.  mer.  ber...fine.  fine.  fine.  ok.  well, yeah, of course i am.  how can i admit to love?  if i do that, i admit to everything that will cause me pain and suffering.  i admit that i had something invested.  i admit that i lost that which i invested.  i admit that that worth, that my whole being of self worth, was invested in something stupid, and is now worth nothing.  a net return of -100%.  i admit to being an idiot for doing something so stupid. i admit to the fact that things don't really look that hopeful from this point forward, and that i really only have myself to blame for the stupid place that i find myself in.

"see?  it wouldn't be that hard to forget about if it weren't love.  whether it's some idealized or fantastic version you might have in your head, you loved her.  but your problem is that you keep trying to fit all these definitions that you THINK are independent of any sort of previously held belief onto your concept of love, in order that your philosophy on the matter might be 'higher' than society's.  you're saying, 'hey, it didn't matter to me.' because that way, when it DOES work out down the road, you can be all like, 'see, i didn't ACTUALLY make a mistake there.'"

fine.  bastard.  i loved her.  i goddamn loved her.

"good."

it's just...

"no."

i mean, it's just, that it ended because she changed.  like her whole being changed, abruptly i might add, and so our whole relationship changed.  like in memento, when the wife can't accept that sammy jenkins has that condition because it's all psychological.  it's just like she wants to KNOW for sure that that sammy is gone, so that she can move on.  you know what i mean?

"eh?"

like, if that sammy is gone, she can accept that this is the new sammy and live from there.  but if there's ANY possibility that she could revive the old sammy, get that back, she'll try to do that.  even if it meant forfeiting her life.  it's like i love the old her, and i don't know what happened in between, as if the old her, had just, well you know, died.

"that's a bit morbid."

i know.  well that's what it's like sometimes.  a proper end to grieving demands some sort of closure sometimes.  closure that i wish i could say that i had.

"i'm sorry."

why are you sorry, you didn't do anything.  that always puzzled me, and it's probably been said before, but it seems like that phrase needs changing, "i'm sorry for you."  maybe something like..."i am trying to be as empathetic as possible towards your circumstance."

"stop being an intellectual idiot."

i'm sorry...i mean, i am trying...wait i guess it doesn't really work there.

"stop being an idiot."

yeah.  okay.

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