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6:45 p.m. - 2002-08-13 Not often, and not as a practice, but I lie, and have lied. I told a lie in this diary not too long ago. I halved a lie that I had been telling for years, but it was still a lie. I said that I have had sex with five women. Lie. The number is three. Why? Because when I started talking to Bianca, I the subject came up, and I started to tell her the regular inflated number, but it felt wrong. It always felt wrong to me, as it is the one thing that I have never been truthful about. I started to tell her the regular inflated number, and for the first time I cared enough to not do it, like it really mattered. I found the lie not falling out of my mouth in the same, practiced, lubricated way it always had before, with the rationalization that it didn�t matter shoving it and letting me repeat it, so I stammered, and suddenly couldn�t do it. But it was unplanned, I had accepted long before that this lie would be with me for life, that no one needed to know the truth because it was unimportant. So suddenly, I found myself on the spot, a situation I am not used to since I try to pride myself on not lying to myself, and others either. I found all the insecurity of what the lie had been born out of rise up in me, and I was only able to subtract the ones that were pure fabrication. You see, the other two, that I lied about again, had a different connotation to them. I could have slept with the other two, by most standards should have, and it was more a matter of feeling like having turned down sex made me less of a man. One was a stripper in Mexico that picked me up on a trip there with my friends. I spent four nights with her, and she asked me to marry her and stay there with her, and this is all true as far fetched as it sounds. What wasn�t true about the story I brought back from there, was that I had sex with her. She wanted to, but I couldn�t do it. I had never had sex with a girl that I didn�t have plans to be in a relationship with, that I didn�t see myself falling in love with. So I didn�t, and in my stupid male macho idiocy, I lied to my friends about that because the idea of spending four nights with a stripper, and not going through with sex when offered it, made me feel like a sap. My friends know that I am a sap, but I guess I didn�t want to admit just how much of one I am. The other story is similar, it was a girl I was dating in Canada, who I didn�t love and knew I never would. She wanted to have sex, and I always told her I wasn�t ready, I even tried to on more than one occasion, but I couldn�t do it. Sap. I have only been in love three times, and only had three sexual partners. Sap. This brings me to now, and Bianca. I told her today that I lied. She hates liars, and can�t trust me. We are done. I fucked up. I am not doing that shit anymore, not anymore. I am so sorry that it ruined something that could have been so beautiful, but I have no one to blame but my stupid self. I�m sorry that I lied, to you too. I guess from now on I�ll live with being a sap instead of a liar, but I have to live with the consequences of both. I'm a liar. A stupid motherfucking liar, and I don't deserve her. The truth hurts.
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