2003-01-24
This is the last time I'm going to wtite about this because I think I'm becoming repetitive.

And I hate to repeat myself.

And I hate to repeat myself.

I talked to him last night. Honestly, it didn't go the way I thought it would. I told him that I couldn't be a part of his deception ... that I couldn't lie to the face of his girlfriend. (Or actually any other part of her body). And no matter how many people told me to stay out of it, I just couldn't. It wasn't in me.

I told him that I've always liked him. And, although I don't agree with his actions and I find them, in fact, deplorable, I still like him as a person. So I wasn't doing this to make his life miserable because I've passed some kind of judgement on him ... I am doing this because, by the fact of me knowing and not telling her, I become part of the lie. And it's not a lie that I want to tell.

I told him I'm prepared for him to hate me. That I've accepted that.

He looked me in the eyes and said "I have NEVER cheated on my girlfriend."

And he said it with this sincerity that I actually doubted myself for a moment.

But then I said, "Yes, you have. I knew it that night when I told you about the diary entry. I saw it in your face."

He said "I am sorry you feel that way. But I have NEVER cheated on my girlfriend."

I said "I know you have. The diary entry was a positive identification. Then, as soon as I told you, you rushed out and told the girl to erase it ... because it was gone the next day and replaced by another, very unflattering one about you."

He said "I told her to erase it because she was lying."

I said "Why would some random girl who you just met for no reason write in her diary that she slept with you and provide very explicit details ... that were so accurate they were scary? I mean that girl isn't even out of high school yet ... it's very disturbing."

He replied with " I have NEVER cheated on my girlfriend. You're lying. I'm sorry you feel that way."

Whoah. This is where I became a little angry. Not outwardly but definitely inside my brain.

He just called me a liar, I thought. He just called ME a liar.

I found that a tad ironic.

So I turned around, gathered my stuff and proceeded to leave.

He said, as I was going, "I'm sorry you think that I've cheated on my girlfriend."

I said, "I don't think anything. I know. And apparently, it's common knowledge because everyone else - but me - knew for a long time that you were unfaithful. I just assumed because you constantly said you "loved" your girlfriend that you would never cheat on her. I thought better of you, I guess. And, not that I expect you to tell me because if you deny it, when your girlfriend finds out you can say it's all lies , but that you can sit here and lie, without any kind of emotion, directly to my face - and call *me* a liar - I think hurts me. And unsettles me. I've agonized over this for more than a week because I wanted to respect you as a person. As a friend. And, now, I feel disrespected. Rather than admit your own trespasses, you make me the villian. Believe me, the last thing I wanted to know is that you love your dick more than you love your girlfriend. This whole thing has damn near given me an ulcer. If you want to deny it, fine. The only thing I ask is that please don't marry her. Until you find out what love - and honesty - is ... please don't marry her. It won't do either of you any good ... and it will undoubtly break someone's heart. These things always have a way of coming around full circle."

With that, I left.

I left because, at this point, I was really too angry to properly engage in civilized conversation. I wasn't screaming or anything ... but I could tell, inside of me, that this discussion wasn't going to go anywhere.

For some reason, I thought by me confronting him, he would see the error of his ways. By me telling him that I think he's essentially a good person and that he's not cut out as a liar, he would suddenly realize the pain that he is causing someone he says he loves.

But, he didn't.

I have a tendency to think the best of people. This is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because people often live up to that expecation. A curse because, when they don't, it really hurts me. Invariably, I'm the one who comes out looking naive.

But, I guess, it's a small price to pay for believing that people will, if given the chance, do the right thing.

I don't think, no matter how many times I'm hurt, I want to ever stop believing that.

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