Truth for Thought
By: RDV
He looked at her, not really regarding her or anything. She was just a dirty linen to him, a piece of dull furniture which isn’t worth a second’s notice. He clasped his hands in front of her; no spark of amazement slanted on his face. They were over now. Thank god.
She walked away, not begged to go back. She had been through this countless times before; guys ditching her. If anything could be more predictable, she could murder herself now.
Sometime later she gave up heterosexuality altogether. Without thinking she sought out girls who loved girls. They didn’t satisfy her, she knew that, but she insisted in order to show those guys that they were pushed to the margin of her interest now, even as she had been by them prior to this. Her friends were half-disbelieving; how could the flirty, self-proclaimed boy-killer change gender preference now? It wasn’t logical.
What they didn’t know was that she had her pride to keep. She wanted to slam it on their male faces that she didn’t want guys anyway so it was perfectly fine if they ditched her. What she needed was a form of parallelism with her sexual frustrations, something to keep her pride intact. Lesbians came as an almost prompt answer. They were an easy target. They weren’t bad, but they didn’t do either.
“Are you happy?” One of her friends enquired of her. As if she had reason to suspect that she was unhappy.
“Very,” She said. Even she knew the quality of lie underlying that answer. She wasn’t happy; she was going against her nature for chrissake.
Her friend smiled and paused for long, long enough for the fear to recommence inside her. There was now a delicate tension between their gazes, as if each were dying to read the other’s mind. Whatever filthiness germinated in her friend’s head, she would prevaricate it later, eventually. She had to put up with the disguise no matter what, else she’d have her shattered pride to answer to.
“Listen, honey, let’s go to the pub. You’ll meet a lot of nice guys there.” Her friend offered.
She just shook her head. Alas, her friend knew. And with this realization, the desire for men was instilled, or renewed, inside her. How many years had it been since she had been with men? Oh, she lost count already. It had been forever. She stretched up, said goodbye to her friend and walked away. Alone now, around the warmth of her bed and pillows, she cried and cried.
“God, when will this end?”
He looked at her, not really regarding her or anything. She was just a dirty linen to him, a piece of dull furniture which isn’t worth a second’s notice. He clasped his hands in front of her; no spark of amazement slanted on his face. They were over now. Thank god.
She walked away, not begged to go back. She had been through this countless times before; guys ditching her. If anything could be more predictable, she could murder herself now.
Sometime later she gave up heterosexuality altogether. Without thinking she sought out girls who loved girls. They didn’t satisfy her, she knew that, but she insisted in order to show those guys that they were pushed to the margin of her interest now, even as she had been by them prior to this. Her friends were half-disbelieving; how could the flirty, self-proclaimed boy-killer change gender preference now? It wasn’t logical.
What they didn’t know was that she had her pride to keep. She wanted to slam it on their male faces that she didn’t want guys anyway so it was perfectly fine if they ditched her. What she needed was a form of parallelism with her sexual frustrations, something to keep her pride intact. Lesbians came as an almost prompt answer. They were an easy target. They weren’t bad, but they didn’t do either.
“Are you happy?” One of her friends enquired of her. As if she had reason to suspect that she was unhappy.
“Very,” She said. Even she knew the quality of lie underlying that answer. She wasn’t happy; she was going against her nature for chrissake.
Her friend smiled and paused for long, long enough for the fear to recommence inside her. There was now a delicate tension between their gazes, as if each were dying to read the other’s mind. Whatever filthiness germinated in her friend’s head, she would prevaricate it later, eventually. She had to put up with the disguise no matter what, else she’d have her shattered pride to answer to.
“Listen, honey, let’s go to the pub. You’ll meet a lot of nice guys there.” Her friend offered.
She just shook her head. Alas, her friend knew. And with this realization, the desire for men was instilled, or renewed, inside her. How many years had it been since she had been with men? Oh, she lost count already. It had been forever. She stretched up, said goodbye to her friend and walked away. Alone now, around the warmth of her bed and pillows, she cried and cried.
“God, when will this end?”
posted by Ria D. at
11:54 PM
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