Sometimes it’s bloody annoying being right. In this case what I was right about was a negative emotion that seemed to perpetually seep out of someone’s every pore and coloured their perspective on everything for years and years. Yet all the while I knew them, they were completely in denial of this screamingly obvious situation to the point where they were so adamant that none of it was happening that I was constantly doubting my own sanity, probably one of the most spiteful things to do to someone who has suffered from mental health problems. I don’t think that the deception was ever intentional, I would like to think that it was because they were embarrassed about feeling something so petty and mean spirited that they never wanted to talk about it with me. They talked about it with other people though, people they valued far too highly who have since blurted every sad little detail to anyone they could and then it’s got back to me.
Oh did they talk about it, to anyone they could and constantly poisoning people’s view of me with an unending stream of bile. You can’t fight a thing like that, all the seeds of hate spread far and wide like a negative Johny Applseed and the more you do, the more is seems like you are guilty of something other than trying to make something work under difficult circumstances.
It was such a relief to have all my intuitions confirmed and I have felt much more myself again now I realise how little of what transpired was my fault. When any form of relationship, be it friendship, romance, working, whatever is built on lies and mistrust and wrong assumptions, and everything else that goes with irrational jealousy, it is impossible for anything good to come from it in the long term no matter how hard you work and bloody hell did I have to work hard.
I still find it so hard to comprehend, why it is so hard just to open your mouth and let some honesty out, (mind you I do it far too often) to face a situation so that it can be discussed and all the wrong assumptions confronted between the people that matter rather than stoked up into forest fires of idle gossip. Instead, the elephant in the room just got bigger and bigger until there was no room for anything else.
It is perhaps fitting that the lies on top of lies have degraded matters to the point where I am pretty much talking to myself here and it is impossible to talk sense to people who no longer recognise the concept, but really, I guess that is all I have really done in any form, be it art, writing, whatever. My life seems to consist of throwing the modern equivalent of messages in a bottle out there into a sea of data and humanity in the vainhope that my necessarily vague thoughts will make some difference to someone, anyone, no matter how small, and perhaps all this pain and suffering won’t have been a total waste of time. And on those bad days when the weight of the world crushes me, at least I know that about that one thing at least I was completely right.