alistairmather

for the longest time i thought i knew pain. from a physical perspective i spent the first half of my life being beaten up as the smallest, weakest, and oddest child around. i have spent the second half in and out of surgery for a number of inherited or developed problems that have left me mostly scar tissue and partially crippled. in spite of this i have thrived, and am fairly healthy outside of my few odd complications.

from an emotional perspective i have been the social death warrant of every person around me. at some point, every friend i have ever had has realised that turning on me is more beneficial to their image and existence then sticking with me. and everyone worries about what other people think about them sometime in there life.

but i have weathered this too, and many of those who abandoned me once have returned to me. i had thought by now that i had suffered enough not to let it bother me. my first love will always see me as the older brother, the semi-father figure she never had. and until quite recently the second love i was lucky enough to find seemed to be attatched to me in spite of our failures on occasion.

and then one day, she decided not to speak to me. this hurt, and it lasted some six months, and i coped. comforting myself with the knowledge that this too would pass and that i had weathered such straits before. recently, after my second surgery this year, she came home from school and she came to visit me. i was overjoyed that she still cared and hoped that with some more time things could still work... after all, six years of being together off and on is a considerable amount of time in lives only twenty or so years long.

then she asked me for advice about dating, love, and sex with the man she has recently decided to spend her life with. a man who is not me. a man who she has openly admitted to me to providing with all the things i had asked for in our relationship that she felt she could not give.

pain has taken on a whole new meaning for me.

i thought i had traded away my soul years ago for the tolerance to bear me through the trials i have brought upon myself. i have attempted to be the best of friends, and i am always there when i am asked for, in the hopes of rectifying the errors in myself when i lost them all. instead it has brought me the girl i have loved since the middle of high school to believe that i am the only person she can speak to freely about matters of the heart... providing it is not my heart.

what remains of my tattered dignity is gone. what soul i thought lost has returned to plague me with its newest rent.

i hate love. i hate pain. and i especially hate how weak i have become.

good night all.