Wouldn’t it be delightful sometimes to be exactly what the unobservant think of you? I think I would like to enjoy being callous. To not care about people would be like some sort of vacation. A week away. “Oh darn, broke another toy. I guess I’ll have to go seduce another one” Would that not be amazing to actually be sometimes? So simple, so purely uncomplicated. To pay no attention to pain or other peoples desires. It must be a freedom. Not, I should add, that I would care to live, but still, I can see it’s attractiveness.
I called Bill tonight, like I told Dominique I would. It’s so sad. He seems so ensconced in victimhood he is unable to be aware of it. May the world protect me from ever being as such. She said not to, but really, I must. He hung up on me. I think he’s getting better, it took him an hour this time. I’m not going to stop trying though. I’m not who he says I am. It’s not my fault he won’t believe what I tell him. His carefully filtered views contradict all evidence, but he will create new out of any words. I suppose that is an almost enviable simple, in it’s own way. *grinning* Of course I still love him, of course I will continue to try and I will laugh as I scale this sheer wall. Because the top would be worth the broken nails, the bleeding fingers, the scrape and loss of flesh. I miss him.
Though I may be blind, I can see.