once upon a time...
14 years ago
a friend wrote a short story.
i just found it. i hadn't read it since...January 2001.
we lost touch sometime after that...
but the story is great. i don't think he'd mind if i quote part of it here.
the relationship of the century didn't just die of a heart attack: it was a slow deliberate disease, one that seeped its way into our souls and mutated all precepts of kindness that had once existed. if a specially trained team of forensics experts were to perform an autopsy on the body, they would find a string of innocent conversations and occurrences, scar tissue and tumors in an otherwise healthy body. I think if I had to trace it back to somewhere, one specific event, it would start with her disbelief.
"i don't believe you."
those words were a tribute to either her stubbornness or insanity, and they always threw me for a loop.
"i don't believe you," she'd say, and punctuate it with a horizontal column of smoke. "in my opinion, the last thing you said was a ludicrous statement, one not worth placing stock in, and, furthermore, i think the research that went into making such a sentence possible was either fraudulent or half-assed."
Her ability to sound like a psychology textbook on top of all this never helped ease my suddenly reeling mind. "But all i said was..."
"it doesn't matter what you said. all that matters is that i don't believe you."
one had to admit it was a perfect argument. i could provide proof to back up whatever i had said, try my hardest to make her a believer, and yet, in her mind, the words that had left my mouth were not to be believed. her twin ideals of truth and reality could not be punctured by any of my lilliputian bullets of logic.
wow. ever look back on some part of your life and realize you could be a real bitch when you wanted to be?