Archive for lies

Pretty Pathetic, huh?

Posted in life story, Ramblings, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , on 2016/02/24 by R L Burns

It is still so very weird to me that I actually believed all the things he said to me.  And even weirder that it sill bothers me so much nearly seven years later.  I feel utterly stupid that I didn’t get it that it was all a lie – but, you should know that it’s not ALL my fault; he was really good at the lie.  There’s a song by the band Seether in which the singer states:

You keep living in your own lie
                                                 Ever deceitful and ever unfaithful
                                                 Keep me guessing, keep me terrified
                                                 Take everything from my world

That pretty much sums up how I feel/felt/whatever.  Ridiculously, in retrospect, I thought I was much smarter than that; that no one could fool me so completely.  Well, now I know that I was wrong on that count, too.

You know, I guess it’s okay that it bothered – and bothers – me.  I mean, I believed he was the love of my life since I was a teenager.  In a way I only got involved with people who were, in a sense, disposable.  Not too flattering – for them or me.  I judged my feelings with everyone by my feelings for him, and their feelings for me by the way he had felt about me.  Comparing is never a good practice, I know, but I didn’t know I was doing it.  Well, I knew it, but I didn’t understand how MUCH I was doing it, nor how negatively it was impacting every romantic relationship of my entire life.  I can see it now, of course; I mean, don’t they say that hindsight is 20/20?  Yepper.  Definitely 20/20.

Even knowing all that now, though, I still don’t understand how I could be so taken in. Where were the signs that it was a lie?  Maybe…well, could’ve been the small amount of time he was able to carve out for me after I drove over one thousand miles to spend time with him.  Yeah, I guess that was a clue.  I’d be there a week and spend 80% of my time alone.  I guess that was a big sign, yes?  But when he was with me, he was WITH me.  Loving me, crying, begging…and when I was away from him, there were hundreds of phone calls, thousands of texts.  I mean, why would he do all of that if he was lying?  That’s what I couldn’t figure out.  Unless, maybe, he WAS just trying to be kind to me – in a weird-wrong-twisted kind of way.  He said later that he did it because he felt guilty that I had loved him so long.  I had loved him.  Hmmmm….and that he had not been in love with me since nearly fifteen years earlier when he wanted to be with me but I said no — he had a child and one on the way.  How could I break that up? I couldn’t, so I sent him back to her and the children, knowing that was the right thing to do – and knowing that he would, in the end, hate me if he left his family and then wasn’t close to them.  For a while I tried to believe that he was just saying all that about lying, that really he was a coward and just couldn’t pull the trigger.  But I suppose I was wrong, and he really didn’t love me any longer.  That is a horrible thing to accept…I kept others at arm’s length and never allowed myself to be happy because I was in love with him.  When I believed we finally had a real chance at the happily ever after we both claimed to have always wanted…well, I was deliriously happy.  And then I wasn’t.

And I am still not.

I still stand by my belief, though, that if he KNEW, the first time we saw each other again, that he didn’t feel the same about me, it would have been much kinder and much, much less disillusioning if he had thrown a pity fuck or two my way and then a tearful farewell. That, I would have held close to my heart with a tear and a smile.

Instead I am left with…nothing.

 

 

Still…

Posted in life story, Loss of Hope, Poetry, Ramblings with tags , , , , on 2011/05/25 by R L Burns

it’s wrong and it’s lame

cuz to you it was all just a game –

so how can I feel the same

way I did when I carved your name’s

first initial into my palm?

what is wrong in my brain,

in my heart – why does the pain

loiter and remain

drowning me – a hurricane

that possesses me, obsesses me?

i just keep telling myself those

christina perri lyrics…

I learned to live

half a life…

and who do you think you are,

runnin’ round leaving scars,

collecting your jar of hearts

and tearing love apart?

you’re gonna catch a  cold

from the ice inside your soul…

so don’t come back for me

don’t come back at all.

 

and yet the thought of that

terrifies me more than anything…

and i STILL don’t know what i did wrong…

Clarity

Posted in Ramblings with tags , , on 2011/04/27 by R L Burns

though rare,

it is your muffled breathing

that wakes me

it slips from the corners

of my room,

surrounding me and

slithering into my dreams

no salt

nor sage

nor ancient prayers

can keep it at bay…

your breath takes mine away

til i am choking

lungs bursting

eyes bulging

hands flailing

as if to throw off

an attacker felt –

but not seen

suddenly the oppression is gone

as if it never was

and absolute clarity is found

amongst the bruises

and the pain

that remain

as i recall

that you are not real –

not at all


A Warrior No More

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on 2010/12/01 by R L Burns

A Warrior No More

Back in 1979 a little (?) movie was released, titled “The Warriors”.  It was all about a New York gang wrongfully accused of killing the leader of the largest gang in the city, and their struggle to get back home to Coney Island.  Along the way there are lots of fights, a little romance, police, and even the death of a couple of the members.  I really loved that movie and would go see it every Friday or Saturday night for one dollar at the midnight movie at the mall.  (This, of course, was back in the days before home VCRs and the like – although I freely admit that “The Warriors” and “Valley Girl” were the first two movies I ever pirated for myself.  Sad commentary on my movie tastes, eh?)  But, as usual, I digress.

The reason I mention this movie is for one particular scene.  When the Warriors finally get off the subway in Coney Island, after fighting, dying, and running, the leader, Swan, looks around at their town; it’s filthy and ugly.  He looks out and speaks some truly important words:  This is what we fought all night to get back to? As he speaks his voice is filled with disgust and not a little self-deprecation.  For years, that moment in the movie has made me sad for them but left me feeling a little hopeful, like maybe he realizes there is more out there for him.  Something better.  Brighter.

I had that same moment myself today.  A totally life-changing, era-ending moment.  And it came out of nowhere – as they often do.

I was looking on an old flash-drive for a copy of my resume.  My PC is broken and I was hoping it had somehow found its way onto one of the four drives I wear on my work lanyard.  I never found my resume, but I found something else.  Something I had written some time ago to a friend – well, that’s a misnomer, I suppose, so let’s say it was something I had written to someone I knew.  Without a great amount of unnecessary detail (especially since I have been taken to task on another writing site for exposing too many of those), I’ll just say that this person was depressed, I was told, because of a traumatic event involving one of his children.  The inference was that I was partially to blame for this incident and that this incident, such a horrible thing to deal with, was crushing him with guilt and despair, torturing him, and all those around him.  As I read my words, truly a sort of “sympathy” and “encouragement” email, I felt nauseated.  Sick.  Stupid.  Ridiculous.  Throughout my letter I encouraged this person, sent prayers for him, his son and his entire family, from myself and everyone in my family – we were all so heartsick over the episode – while at the same time explaining to him that it was not his fault, that he had done everything a father could do, that his children adore him and admire him…that no one could have asked more from him.  The pain I felt on his – and his family’s behalf – jumped out of that letter, as did my own feelings of shame for any part I had played in this, and brought tears to my eyes.

Until I remembered that he later told me it was all a lie.

Nothing had ever happened to his son.  It was an excuse.  A tall tale.  Told for what purpose, I will never know.  And now, I no longer care.  As I stared at the words on the computer screen I heard his voice in my head when he admitted it hadn’t happened.

And suddenly I felt like Swan, the War Chief of the Warriors when he got back to Coney Island – the home he had had loved, missed, and fought to return to:  This is what I fought all my life to get back to? This is what I almost jumped off a twelfth floor balcony for?  Slit my wrists for?  Cried my eyes out for?  Nearly destroyed myself for?  How stupid am I?

I can hear your answer:  Uh, pretty stupid.  Hey, I agree.

I came home after that, berating myself all the way.  And then I took off the rings I swore I never would – having once proclaimed that even if he was a liar, I was not, so on my hand they would stay – and gave them to my sister to cleanse in sea salt.

For some time now I have felt that I was free-ish of that circle of lies, but occasionally it would come back and bite me – hard.  Oddly enough, it’s gone now.  All of it – a flash or two of self-disgust at giving everything I had to a lie, but beyond that…nothing.

I am a Warrior no more.

And I am glad.  Really, really glad.

 

me  11.29.2010

Unaffordable

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , on 2010/09/29 by R L Burns

trapped in the
web of silence
raindrops fill
the eyes
the circle remains
unbroken
despite all the
bullshit lies

stuck in the
web of deceit
one day up
another down
the song remains
the same
it’s barely worth
writing down

ensnared in a
web of pain
heart, mind
body and soul
the remedy remains
the same
but who can afford
the price of
the cure?

 

Hrothgar Speaks

Posted in Sharing with tags , , , on 2010/07/10 by R L Burns

From the movie, “Grendel”…

Beowulf speaks the truth:

To deny the truth is to continue to live in fear.

It is time to stop hiding behind our secret.

This may be our last chance.

 

— King Hrothgar to his Queen

 

Misguided

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , on 2010/07/07 by R L Burns

The owl speaks loudly

Proclaiming his shame

His hooting more like cattle lowing

His eyes full of pain

The boy thought his power

Was much greater than

That of the shadows who claimed him,

Drew him into their clan…

 

Misguided, misguided

The warrior wants to be good

Misguided, misguided

He thinks he’s misunderstood

The wolf tells of watching him

Dance patterns on the plain,

While chanting and praying,

Calling the wind and the rain

So sad, says the wolf

He can never assume

The roles of his ancestors

Who howled at the moon

 

Misguided, misguided

The warrior wants to be good

Misguided, misguided

He thinks he’s misunderstood

The eagle swoops down and

Loses a feather, slowly it floats

Along with the breeze

The warrior tries to seize it

Because he believes

It will imbue him with power,

With great knowledge and skill –

So wrong he is, though, it never will.

 

Misguided, misguided

The warrior wants to be good

Misguided, misguided

He thinks he’s misunderstood

He puts on the robes of his ancestral past

Desires to join them in nobility

At last, but he can never overcome

The lies, his greatest vulnerability

His lies to himself, to the old and the young,

Lies too numerous to be counted or told

To everyone he lies, his soul no longer his –

For long ago, it was bartered and sold.

 

Misguided, misguided

The warrior wants to be good

Misguided, misguided

He thinks he’s misunderstood

 

The Old Ones surround him

Hoping to light his way,

But their hopes are all fading

As they watch his light give sway

To the darkness around him,

Within him and out –

His potential slowly ebbing away

Because crippling delusion won the rout

 

Misguided, misguided

The warrior wants to be good

Misguided, misguided

He thinks he’s misunderstood