A-Typical male's journal.

This page is for you. You're smart enough to find this. I'm sure one day you will. One day I may throw off the mask of anonymity. One day I may, in a fit of pique send you this url. So, I know your are going to read this, just so you understand.

I remember the first time I met you. I remember when the lies began. I'm going to tell the truth, here, today, so that you can finally know it. So that this guilt can go away, and you will finally lose the control you exert, still, over my life.

So, I will begin at the beginning. Forgive me if I repeat things I've told you before. You aren't the only one reading this.

I had been working at Catering, my clothes had stuff spilled on them. I had stayed late, working on a paper. I saw someone I knew from class outside the Student Union. She told me about the dance going on inside.

I'd finished early, so I had some time before Dad was going to pick me up. I thought to myself, "what the hell?" It was a dance put on by one of the religious groups on campus, so I'd never see these people again, right?

I almost became a wallflower again, if it weren't for that guy. I used to thank God for him, when I believed in that sort of thing. Now I'm not so sure. I'm glad I met you, I just wish I'd left sooner.

That guy was so annoying...talking to me about things I didn't want to hear, about God and Jesus. I just knew he was a Southern Baptist. Then he pointed you out to me, just across the room. I thought to myself, "Well, she's kind of dowdy looking, but I can at least escape him. I can leave her later for someone else."

Yep, I know, I never told you that. I don't really think you're dowdy looking, now. I've seen you in too many different ways. But you were wearing that Church-Lady Dress. I guess it was more appropriate than my food-stained shirt. We danced until I had to leave, and you walked with me to the car. Later that week I came to visit you, and we discovered things we had in common.

Computers, Greek Myth. You taught me about BBSing, and showed me things I'd never seen. The good times began.

But there were flies in the ointment from the beginning. Today, I wonder, why did I miss those clues? Then I remember, I didn't miss them. I chose to ignore them. I changed the way I dressed for you. I changed the way I shaved for you. I changed the way I thought for you.

My friends at the time were polite. They didn't tell me how different I was, how much they didn't get along with you. Not that Ozzymandias was the easiest person to get along with. Not that I would have listened to them anyway. It was conveinent to lower my contact with them, since I didn't drive, and they were all over the state. So I did.

When my parents moved to Wilmington, I moved on campus. The good times for us, and the bad times for my schooling began. You didn't cause that, even if you did encourage bad habits in me. I'm sure I encouraged them in you, as well.

I'd never cheated on a test before then, though. I remember doing your homework. Taking your Calculus test. I remember being mad about it, but repressing that anger. All the while going to those fundamentalist Christian meetings of Mrs. Petty's.

I was such a hypocrite.

The good times finally ended after we moved in together. Yes, things were better for awhile. The time we spent with Kaos and Loki was good. But the seeds to our destruction had been planted years earlier.

Before I'd moved, I had started losing my faith. Mrs. Petty, with her anti homosexual attitudes was the first spike. Once I started questioning, I was back to where I was before we met. An agnostic who was angry at most Christians. Ok, I was angry at them all before we met. People like Ron and Heidi changed my mind on that.

Remember Ron? He was going to marry us.

But after we moved in together, the arguments started. The ones about medicine, the ones about me getting to work. I know I pushed you to take me to work more often than you'd agreed to--I remember that you only said you'd pick me up. I know you wanted me to force you to take your arthritis medicine, to force you to exercise. I didn't because, I didn't want you to make me take my epilepsy medicine, to be forced to do those things.

I was chafing at the bit. I needed to live my own life. I hadn't, after all, for several years.

I don't remember which argument was the turning point for me. Maybe they are the same argument, from the same day, but I remember it as two things.

First was the surprise. I can't tell you how happy I was to finally get my license. I mean, it finally meant I wasn't dependent on you anymore. I finally got away from needing you all the time. Damn, it was great! I was ready to spread my wings and fly, when you dropped the bomb on me.

I could have sword you wanted the same thing, that we were pretty much over, and it was time to move on. No, you thought when I got my license that we'd get married. You were sitting there, waiting for me to ask, and I wasn't asking. It must have been hell for you, while it was heaven for me. When I found out, I was so surprised. Shocked. I had to go for a walk. Remember?

I'm pretty sure I came back, and told you things would be ok, we'd work on it. I'm pretty sure we made love that night, and for the first time in a while it was good for me.

I remember how our lovemaking would hurt me. I remember when I told you about it, after we broke up. I know it hurt you for me to say it, but you were still pressing me to get back together. You had to know why I couldn't. But that's not ultimately what ended it.

No, you read my journal. Yes, I left it out and open, but dammit, there are some things you don't do. I can imagine what was going through you head. You didn't know what was going on with me, you didn't know what was going on in my mind. I guess you could have asked, but would I have told you? Probably not. Certainly not the whole truth, even if I knew it.

My journal was a spewing ground of hate and anger. It's where all that stuff went, so it wasn't there in normal everyday stuff. Oh, that and my smoke breaks with Lys. I didn't smoke, but I needed them as bad as she did. So, you read it, all that bad stuff about you, and I finally got the courage to leave.

It was still months before I finally left, but that's the moment it ended for me. You had finally betrayed my trust, in a way that I couldn't ignore.

Even today, I still have a lot of anger towards you, and sadness over the things we did and didn't do. I started to write you an email, apologizing, but I just can't.

Maybe, when you get the money I owe you. Maybe then we can try to be friends again. But today, today, I just want you to go away and leave me alone. And I know you won't, because of the money.

If I've done something wrong in the past few years, it's not pay you that money. It's made it hard for us to talk, but even more so the garbage from our relationship still bothers me. When my anger comes, it's not the money I think about. It's the manipulation and guilt you sent my way. It's remembering the kind of person I was when I was with you, and how I never want to be that guy again.

We just aren't good for one another, Heather. We're not really that much alike anymore.

So, when you don't get the birthday cards, don't think I don't know it's your birthday. I remember telling Azura about it. No christmas cards, for you or anyone, no email, no chat. I see you when you log on, I see you there, everyday.

I don't want to have to cry every time we talk, but I do. I'm crying now. I can't take it, so I don't open up. Maybe I'm a wimp, but I'm just not ready yet, and may never be. Don't wait for me.

I know I did a bad thing today, setting my mesg n, without giving you a chance to continue writing me. Email is slower, and would give me more time to think, and there wasn't anything I wanted to say anymore anyway. Not without saying hurtful tings.

I still said some of them, I'm sure. I said them here, too, so I wouldn't have to say them there. Some of them needed to be said. And I know you'll find them, eventually.

Feel free to think that I'm a jerk, or an asshole. That's fine, I probably am. I know, thought, that I could do more harm by talking now, than I can by being quiet. You won't accept that as an answer. I know you. But that's all there is.

I can't take it any more.

Finally,

Generic Joe

Generic Joe's A Typical Male