4:55 p.m. - October 16, 2001
choked
Here's me, earlier today: "I really am okay with it now.. it just took me a few hours." Lies, lies, lies . Well, what was I supposed to say? What would have happened if I'd told the truth? It hadn't been five seconds after she asked me if I was all right, that I tried to answer her, emitting a series of involuntary squeaks, and then bursting into tears all over her shirt. It happened before I could stop myself, or at least go somewhere else. I wouldn't have done that on purpose. I'm not one for guilt trips anymore, but what do they expect, I mean.. really... what? She's one of my best friends and he's.. well, who knows what I see him as anymore? It wouldn't be so bad if she wasn't who she was, and my strange, indescribable feelings weren't what they'd always been. But she is, and they are, and I don't know why he bothers feigning surprise when he asks me if I'm okay with everything. When she asks me if it's okay with me. What am I supposed to say? 'No'? Am I supposed to forbid it? Even if I could, I wouldn't. I'm sure everybody thinks I'm selfish for daring to cry. The nerve! Did it occur to anyone that I couldn't help it? Did it occur to anyone that I could have easily, and would have for lack of self-restraint, thrown a temper tantrum, jumped in my car, and floored it all the way home?

I keep thinking about it. I mean, I introduced them, four or whatever years ago. All the five that I've known him, I've loved him, but he never gave me a chance. Everyone else got one, oh I wish I could list names, but I can't, and they all got chances, but I never did. I can't stomach the fact that I never will, either. No one understands that it's just lingering hurt, now, more than anything logical or anything current. It's all from the past, sour, rising in my throat. I've hardly thought about him lately, but this is all it took to bring it back, hard and stinging. Not that I need this right now. Not that anyone ever needs this kind of pain.

And I have to deny it. I have to deny it to him and to her, because even now, my need for a stable image overrides the need to spill. I've done so much spilling in earlier years with such terrible results that I know now not to do it anymore. If I told them, and I might be, because at least one of them reads this at times, things would happen that I just don't want to happen. She might feel so guilty that she'd break it off, just to save our friendship. But I don't want her to do that. He wouldn't break anything off, I know that, but he'd pull away from me, maintaining, in his eyes, that my intensity had gotten in the way of his life again. He'd resent it. And I'd resent his resentment. So I'm not going to elaborate. I can stand on his doorstep and say it's all good with me, lying through my teeth, because that's the kind of emotion that will yield the results I want; smoothness, calmness. I don't need any conflict, I don't need any resentment. I'm still willing to lie in order to keep us all sane.

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