Hello. And welcome to Day 4. (If you get that obscure reference, I’ll give you a cookie)
Day 4’s question on 30 Days of Truth is: Something you have to forgive someone for.
I don’t like this question because it implies that forgiveness is a necessity – and it isn’t. Not always. However, I’ll concede the point on this because I probably should forgive it. It’s long in the past and it doesn’t matter anymore.
For my long time readers, you may remember the days when my heart was broken over Kendra. I called her K on the blog, to protect her identity. As it turns out, that wasn’t necessary, since that wasn’t actually her name.
The upshot is, I knew a woman named Kendra and I really liked her. Like, a lot. We talked all the time, for hours at a time and over the course of about a year and a half, we built a relationship. Until one day she stopped talking to me. It was very abrupt and I had no idea what happened, especially since the last time we talked, she told me I had the potential to be the love of her life. After a couple of years she called me one day and said she wanted to meet me. I told her that I still felt the same way and she said she didn’t love me. So I told her I didn’t want to meet her because what was the point? I asked her to stay out of my life and she did.
But it bothered me. It bothered me a lot. Recently, I was searching online for an old friend I hadn’t seen in a long time. I was looking for her phone number or address, but what I found was her obituary. She died in 1996. Wow. For some reason, I started thinking about Kendra again. So I looked her up and paid $20 to a service that would give me all the dirt on her.
I knew she hadn’t been entirely forthcoming with me, but I never pushed the issue and for several years I resisted the urge to get the information she was withholding. But that night I found out everything because she gave me enough information to nail it down, even though most of what she told me wasn’t true.
Her name isn’t Kendra.
She is 7 years older than she said she was.
I found her marriage license, but no divorce decree.
She lied about the high school she attended (and obviously the year she graduated).
I found her husband’s information and while I believe they were separated (because we talked at ALL HOURS, all the time), he shared the same address.
This summer I sent her an email and confronted her. I could have called because I have her land line number, but she never gave that to me and I felt that would be an unfair invasion of her privacy – like stalking her online wasn’t. (I have a complicated ethical code. Shut up).
In that email I told her that I could have forgiven anything if she hadn’t lied to me. I told her that I fucking hated her for doing that to me. I felt completely betrayed.
Here is part of what I said:
I hate you for lying to me, K. I really fucking hate you for it. I could have handled anything but that. You fucked up my life. I hope it was worth it to you, I really do. You changed everything – and not in a good way. You’ve probably moved on 10 times over … but you should know how you affected my life. I feel stupid and worthless – and that’s because of what YOU did. The worst part is that I would have been okay with the truth.
She didn’t really fuck up my life – but I hung onto something that wasn’t real. That’s my own fault, not hers, but she could have made it easier on me.
So I don’t know. It’s over. It’s been over for a long time. I don’t care about her anymore – and that makes me sad, because the reason I don’t care is because she lied to me about almost everything. It makes me question our friendship, which I always thought was special even if she wasn’t into me romantically (and actually, she was. She told me more than once, but she didn’t believe that anything “real” could happen online. I wonder why she thought that …).
I’m not sure if no longer giving a shit equals forgiveness.