Very valuable exposition. Physically hurt me to read it.
I told him he complained too much and that he fiends for my attention like an addict. I told him I wouldn’t mind paying some, but only once the stakes were raised. (I told him in my head.)
I realized that everything about him equaled perfection, all if it… oh, except for he himself. My closest friends could see it. They could look into the crystal ball called our friendship and tell me today that my life with him would be miserable and fake and worthless and dry and miserable. And I knew they were right. But who doesn’t want to try their hand at the best laid plans?
There are only so many things I can say to a whining child. I’m sorry babe, oh no!, who did my love wrong?, I can’t believe it!, he doesn’t know who he’s messing with!, come get a hug, don’t pay attention to it, you’re awesome!, I love you (but I don’t), I’m sorry…
I ran out of lines and I never had the emotion to back them up anyway. I tried to play the part till it became me… you know, fake it till you make it? But I’m so far removed, oh-SO-far removed, because I’ve felt love before- or at least I think so- and this does not hold a candle to what I had… and even that might have been a counterfeit romance.
And this piece is selfish, because it is only in the relatability of her writing that a writer gives of herself to her readers. And this shit I’ve just typed is anything but that. I apologize to you… and yea, to him too.
I’m used to that you know; pretending to care about his feelings.
I’m honestly the very last person I know that I’d have predicted to fall for a confidence trickster. Seriously, I have friends who are gullible; kind souls, but gullible all the same. I’m not like that. I’m wary of human beings and I know that evil resides in our hearts. I know that people are all basically evil by nature, and are socialized to be good- deep inside, our natural inclinations are animalistic. It’s funny how we call rapists and thieves and murderers the abnormal ones, when in fact, they are responding to the natural human urge to take whatever is desired without regard to consequence. Society is what conforms us through the knowledge of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’. When you get told ‘NO’ enough times as a child, you’ll soon learn. But I digress.
Last night, a young man showed up at my doorstep at about 9.45pm. He was dressed in what I can most accurately describe as regular college student clothes. He was a white guy with brown hair, and of slight build. He seemed in distress and told me that he had been trying to reach his friends who live next door to me, but nobody was answering the door. He said he had an emergency, someone had had an accident and he really needed a ‘way to obtain gas’. He pointed to the building across from mine and said he lived there. His name was Ryan, he was a student, he wouldn’t mind even leaving his laptop with me if I liked. He was in clear distress. I just wanted him to speak candidly so I asked him what he wanted. He put his face in his palms and said how embarrassed he was, how he really didn’t want to be ‘that guy’, but he really needed gas. So I asked him how much he wanted and he said something like $12 - 15. I opened my purse and gave him the money. I felt the social responsibility to help a fellow student, and I really didn’t think twice. Ok, maybe twice, but I wanted to help out. He thanked me profusely and promised to bring it right back, and with interest. So I went about my way and forgot about him.
24 hours later and I’m sitting in my living room, pissed off.
I just came from doing a little private investigating. I knocked on his friends’ door. You know, the ones who live next door to me that he’d been frantically trying to reach? Yea. I asked them if they knew a Ryan, and they said they did, but he did *not* live in 205 Oregon, the building that the Ryan of concern lived in, and he wasn’t tall either. Weird. Definitely weird. So I decided to stroll over to 205 and knock on doors. Seriously. I really wanted to know if this character existed, or if I had reason to feel dumb. I knocked on random doors till I reached one that was answered by a slightly older-looking guy. I told him the whole story (I had rightly presumed he was the CA [community assistant]) and I asked him if it was possible to check if there was a Ryan in existence in 205 Oregon, period. He asked to see MY DukeCard, but of course like the stunner I am, I wasn’t carrying mine, which I’m sure did wonders for my own credibility, given that I’m Black and all (I was wearing a Duke hoodie, but y’know, they sell those at the store, sigh). David (the CA) informed me that there was no Ryan in 205.
*Insert stuck-on-stupid face*
Really, though? Ryan, wherever you are, I just want you to know how truly despicable I consider you to be. It’s the entire principle! Who would steal from lil ol’ me? Black, young, female, foreigner, college-student, and with a couple loans to boot? Thousands of miles from my home and everything familiar? Helpless, sad little me, who needs to direct her funds towards planning her Spring Break, or something more suited to what a college student should be spending guap on, which is clearly *not* dishing it out to random lanky fools who need “ways to obtain gas.” The principle gets to me the most. My pride is very hurt! Ryan needs to pray I don’t ever see him again, because if I do, let’s just say he, as well as anyone within a 5-mile radius of us will know that I’m truly an immigrant!
Dear “Ryan”,
I hate your stinking guts. You make me vomit. You’re the scum between my toes!
Love, WaterForBreakfast.
