SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

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Monday, Jan. 31, 2011 @ 9:40 pm
Betrayed



Too quick to trust.

Again and again, the same story plays out in my life.

Why do people always disappoint me? It's not too much to expect your friends to be honest with you. Isn't the whole point to have mutual trust and openness?

It's far too much to explain. It's far too weird for even me to understand. I have to go to work and pretend to be congenial with two of Daniel's (and, in turn, my) best friends in this city. It's a rude twist of fate, a glimpse into the true character of these individuals. To go behind his back when the consequences are so obvious and so mean.

And you know, I nearly loved Roy. I nearly risked the one true, honest friendship that I have on him. I imagined beautiful things about him, I counted the hairs on the back of his head in the area where it's beginning to thin, and I counted the holes in his sweater.

Tonight, I threw out the leftover pie in our freezer - the leftovers from the pie that Roy brought to the Thanksgiving dinner that we invited him to. I opened the freezer, pulled out the bag, looked at it, handed it to Daniel, and said, "Throw this out. We're not eating it." And he didn't hesitate as he passed it through into the trash.

The situation has also meant the end of my relationship with my only possible girlfriend in this city. On the weekend, we were riding the chair lift together on a beautiful day of alpine powder skiing, and I was so thankful to have met someone that I can connect with at long last, and just a few hours later it is over.

And you know what else? I don't say it too much here, if ever. I don't ever talk about how I know the precise angle of Daniel's imperfect tooth, the awkward bend of his elbow when he sleeps. I don't talk about how his support for me is unwavering, his faith in me endless. We've been together for five and a half years, and yes we have fights, and yes I dream sometimes of other men, and yes I find more inspiration in fleeting chance meetings than the day to day routines of our domestic life, but I always go home to Daniel. And he's always there waiting for me.


Roots | Shoots