Friday, July 11, 2008

It doesn't matter how much of an idealist you are, or if you know the kind of person that you want to strive to become. Sometimes, simply having the ideals or the desire isn't enough. Tonight, my humanity is rearing its ugly head.

On Monday, I saw Meg for the first time in ten months. We had coffee--we had planned to get together and "catch up" at some point down the road, and with the accidental email of last week, it just sort of happened. I've been a riot of emotions ever since.

Tonight, I'm angry. I'm angry that she still has so much of an impact on my life, that seeing and talking to her can send my emotions into a roiling cauldron. It makes me mad that I seem to have no effect on her at all, that from all appearances, I'm just a book she picked up and read, closed and put on a shelf to collect dust. I'm mad that she's found a boyfriend, someone who she views as better than me. I'm mad and hurt that when I asked her if she had a boyfriend, in response, she said to me, "Yes, but he's not you, Dan" as if that's supposed to make me feel good. It seems that him not being me was a step in the right direction in her mind. I'm mad that in the last letter I ever received from her all she said was, "I'm looking forward to hearing about your baking success in the news," as if that's all I am or what I care about the most. I'm mad that all I've become is the boyfriend she had who makes cakes. I'm mad that when we talked, it was as if I was merely a stranger with whom she was deigning to have a polite conversation with--coffee with her felt automatic and perfunctory. I hate that it seems I don't matter at all to her anymore.

I'm angry that I didn't get my own way, that my dreams weren't fulfilled, that I've been replaced and that she rejected me. And I'm mad at myself for being so mad about it all, and I'm mad that she still has this power over me. I'm angry that no one has entered my life, and I'm mad that none of the many women I've asked out since I broke up with Meg have shown any interest whatsoever.

I'm an angry man tonight--angry at Meg and angrier at God.

There it is--my awful humanity in its honest, ghastly reality.

Pray for me, will you? I don't want to be this way. I want to be a noble man, but tonight I feel like punching a hole in a wall.

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