Everybody’s gotta live up to certain social roles in life, right?
We’re are daughters, sons, (girl/boy)friends, mothers, sisters, students and so much more…life is like a theater play or a movie, we act, we lie, we wear certain masks and costumes to disguise who we really are even if it’s just to be liked by people, to be accepted…or even to make sure, that we’re, at least, not being hated.
And sometimes this play’s comic, sometimes tragic and most of the time, it’s both.
When it comes to me…I’ve been playing quite a few roles lately, that I’m not really happy with, and even less proud of.
One of the roles that I never thought I’d ever have is…”The Hoe”…as I like to call it. Other people would probably just consider me a “lover”, an “affaire” or whatever terms you can come up with to describe the fact that I slept with a man who’s in a relationship….not just once, but multiple times, over the last couple of months.
I got there after his housemate went to work and left early in the morning before he was coming back from his night shift….no one was allowed to see me….they could tell someone, especially his girlfriend, of course he never told me that, but I knew it right from the beginning, that he was struggling pretty badly to keep the whole thing secret.
For me, it wasn’t easy either….I had to lie to my friends, my parents….and obviously to myself. Over and over again…until there was nothing left of my old principles….and my pride.
Lying in his bed, I turned to one side, looking directly into his girlfriend’s eyes….she looked pretty on that photo, smiling, her blonde hair flowing down her shoulders, her blue eyes sparkling.
I turned back around….I didn’t wanna see it….I didn’t want to look at her, thinking about how she’d feel, finding out that her boyfriend…and maybe the love of her life….was cheating on her. Instead, I crawled under his blanket….he wrapped his arms around me, kissing my forehead….and every doubt, every bit of disgust that I felt for myself, every single thought about how wrong this entire thing was, just flowed out of my head….and into the huge black hole that you later call your guilty conscience….so that you can dig it all out later, when you finally put your brain back into “sane mode”.
And then, you really start thinking about stuff….and you see how bad this is for you, that this tiny little bit of “love” doesn’t make you happy…it makes you desperate, and every time you go home, you already know, that when you go to bed that night, you’ll feel even more alone than usual….because you know, that you ain’t really loved, that you maybe touched his body….but that you’ll never be able to touch his heart….since it belongs to someone else.
And maybe he started thinking as well….and called it quits….telling me that we just couldn’t do this to each other anymore, that one of us or we both would sooner or later get hurt pretty badly and that he just couldn’t give me what I deserve as a person…and a woman.
I’m glad that he was honest….to me, and to himself. He was honest when I couldn’t.
And I guess he knew that I wasn’t really comfortable with the whole situation.
I’m shocked about how far I’m apparently willing to go, when I somehow feel lonely and not really loved. ….and concerning that I always feel lonely I guess I’ll have to be careful to make sure that something like that will never happen again.
I got hurt so many times already….mentally and physically….and I’m just waiting for it to happen again.
I’m basically counting on it.
And if it doesn’t happen…I make it happen…because maybe, hate for myself and for others, and the hurt, and the regrets are the only things I can still feel. I can’t really love anymore, because I wouldn’t consider myself worth being loved.
I expect other to not like me, and if they really do, I hurt them or chase them away….because I feel like, I couldn’t live up to their expectations….and they couldn’t live up to mine.