August 10, 2001
In Which there is the Impossible
There are things I have not spoken of here because they were so painful to recount. And they were over. But it seems, now, that they are not.
He lied to me. He says he didn't but everything indicates that he has. His Indiana venture with Scott may or may not have been for the same reasons that compelled Scott there, namely these girls they both knew from King's Island. Ryan never mentioned this trip to me, it occured while I was on vacation. Scott told my brother that Ryan didn't want me to know about it. My brother failed to share this information with me until this morning, and in fact, Mom shared it for him.
The battle was fought on neutral ground. Ryan calls me at work, as promised, and I say only that he needs to come and see me now. And I hang up.
He arrives. I take him to the courtyard behind the library. I managed only enough composure to swear in my first accusation, the rest are choked by the suppression of my tears.
He understands, probably, but continues to deny that his reasons were what they appear to be. He defends himself with the fact that he has never lied to me before.
I tell him that this once has made me question if he has been lying all along.
I tell him that he has destroyed every bit of faith I have in him.
I tell him that I don't care if what I am saying hurts him.
I tell him I want him to be hurt.
Just like me.
He says he will do everything he can to fix this. I said I will do nothing. He asks me if I'm just willing to throw this away over a misunderstanding. I said that to me, there was no misunderstanding. He is lying. And I will not put my self-respect below my trust in him. I cannot.
I tell him I don't want to throw anything away.
I tell him that it seems to me like he already has.
astera at at work