Liar Liar Pants on Fire

I had a friend tell me, in the best advice sorta way, that I just need to have a different perspective -- think about it differently -- with Jackass. Cause Jackass is all "lets be buddies cause it hurts too much to have none of you"... (I am not some dessert to be portioned up on the Bad Penny free diet plan... I'll just have TWO bites)

So, this advice is good. I admit this. However, I was convinced that I could never have this change of perspective. Too crazy sick in love. Doomed to failure, from the beginning... Then Jackass lied to me. At first the lie was very painful. But then it dawned on me what it really meant.

He is just fucking with my head.

This is not the first time I have had this thought, this suspicion. But it is the first time I've had proof. There really is no other explanation for why he would tell me he has not read the email when he had read it. Royal head fucking. Wow.

At first I thought this was the sort of thing that would unhinge me. If you'd asked me "Hey, Penny! What would happen if you knew to a certainty that Jackass was just messing with your head?" My answer would have been something like... I would go to bed and cry for days, never, ever to get over the total annihilation to my soul of having been so vulnerable to a person, so open, so honest, only to discover that he was screwing with me like some kind of evil boy lighting ants on fire for fun.

So, yesterday, when I realized that he had lied and I contemplated the implications... I was ready for this reaction. I got ready for the depression. The pain. I braced myself. Waited. But nothing like that happened. So I opened my eyes -- here's the scene:

I am standing, braced, prepared for the crushing death that I can SEE clearly coming right for me. It's falling, right on me, I can not get away. Its Dorothys house, man, and I am the witch in the funky shoes. SO I throw my arms up, close my eyes and scream "NOOOOOOOOO!" Thwack. The house lands but I feel no pain. I guess that I must be dead and it happened so fast that I never even felt it. So I open my eyes. And see that some how the house lined up just right. Door wide open, lined up just right with me and I am unscathed. Total destruction all around me but I have not
a single scratch.

That's how it was. It took me 4 hours to realize that I am not even going to cry about it. Trust me when I tell you that I am far more surprised by this than you are.

The thing that I wanted so much, it was a good thing to want. Connection, true depth and appreciation of intellect, honesty and vulnerability. All of these things remain pure and desirable. But I never really had them with him. It was just an illusion. So, not being with him is not actually a loss. So why cry?