I am not what one would describe as ‘an open book.’
I tend to be a bit closed with feelings and emotions and all that jazz, preferring to self soothe over self-pity and self-suffice over self-indulgent. However like the rest of the populace, when things are out of my control on occasion I have no option but to react to other people’s behaviours and this can lead to a little self-reflection after the fact.
On this occasion, the catalyst was my inability to lie
If I were a different person I wouldn’t feel the need to start considering the permutations a lie can take and the damage a single untruth can bestow. If I were a different person I would have let the molecule of fantasy roll off my tongue and guild the surrounding air with the taint of falsehood. If I were a different person I may have smiled a little at my own tenacity and silver-tongued my way through the intricacies of the literally landmine-strewn conversation topics until the lie was sold.
But I’m not, I’m very much me and I did the only thing I could have done in the circumstances without actively incriminating myself and yet at the same time provided a response tantamount to an admission of guilt. I offered a self destroying answer that not only convicted me but also laid open my internal struggle over whether or not to stick to the truth.
I did the only thing I could have done being the person I am. I hesitated.
In that single moment of hesitation I considered the pros and cons of perpetuating the lie, the actions to be taken to continue the story and propel the sinking account into the ether to be taken as gospel or torn apart. And I considered the moment in the future when the truth would emerge, battered and bruised from its fairytale cocoon, and whether by that time the truth would still be a beautiful ally or perhaps an ugly stick for the beating.
I hesitated and therein lay my answer.
In hind sight I should perhaps have answered fast and false to save further questions, accusations and recriminations, but I am not that person to whom a lie comes easy. However I am also not the person to feel obligated to prostrate my life and times on the line for public scrutiny and peer approval. In fact if there is one thing I value above all else it is my ability to compartmentalise, my skewed views and my right to keep both to myself. Both in my head and in my life.
Hundreds of pigeon holes litter my world, literal, metaphorical and symbolic. Tidying away the stray thoughts and random musings scattered across my days, pulling up the emotional trickles that would follow the scars of past wounds and keeping track of the plethora of philosophical nonsense connected to every mis-stepped slip, slide and stumble along the road I have travelled.
To ask to see the intricacies is not only an affront to me but to the careful and crazed paths of the world I’ve built; the very world from which I watch the path’s you’ve chosen, laid out like brazen roads flaunting their straightness, their destiny, their certainty. Showing their strength and power and sense of purpose. But look closely and I see the rigidity allows no deviation, no about-face, no change of mind, of heart. You have your paths, I have my holes, to ask to trawl the depth of mine is to request the very access I build my maze to prevent.
And yet you, who have known me so long, seen me so well and had every opportunity to learn, have come up empty-handed. How can it be that you look so hard and harsh and only come out with exactly what you went in with? What did you hope to achieve. Beyond asking, you assumed to take what isn’t yours to be shared and tear it asunder, fluttering the pieces of my calm across the tides of your anger like ash through the breeze.
I guess you forgot that boxes is not all I am. For I do not like to lie and prefer my crazed maze to your open paths and emotion strewn ways but that which makes you different makes me curious. Whereas that which makes me different you simply do not comprehend.
Whatever I am, whatever I do, however I do it, I’ll always have something you can never understand. If all else fails I can retreat inside and spend time and again within my boxes, reshaping, re-learning, reorganising and if needs be; retrying. you with your rigidity and structure mean you see no other option, you see no other path you see no other right. And left, to your own devises you may emerge unchanged from the maze, but rest assured you will have left with nothing.