i find it intriguing that there are people who don’t know me that can read what tends toward very personal thoughts…almost raw internal dialogue sometimes. i’m not an extrovert, but i am someone who cares about truth and honesty and integrity a lot, so if i do talk about something i’m generally willing to be pretty honest about it.
on some level, i bother to write entries in this blog because part of me thinks it’s possible someone else might gain a greater understanding of others through it, or empathize with me, or find something of themselves in some aspect of what i’m going through. but a large part is personal…it’s somewhat cathartic to write stuff out — it gets it out of my head. i have to collect my thoughts to express them, which gives me a chance to contemplate them and piece them together, and that keeps them from just perpetually eating me up on the inside. so even if no one reads it, it still has some value to me. but every now and then it does get read.
even weirder is that some people who only know of me because of tamara — who don’t even know *me* at all — can (and evidently do) read this stuff from time to time. why? curiousity? fear? concern? (i’m not asking for responses, by the way.)
why do i wonder this? because obviously tamara was changing who she was, what she cared about, and how she viewed me and most of the friends we’d ever had. she chose to completely violate multiple principles she had held in very high regard. i’ve little doubt the person she described to them likely wasn’t a very accurate portrayal of the person i really am. (the ones she has had to talk about me with…i probably don’t get mentioned otherwise.)
so they come here with these preconceived ideas of who and what i am, and see these very internal thoughts where i’m basically opening up a raw view of my inner self, mostly when i’m in a dark or difficult place due to the choice(s) their friend made. they don’t know me, they don’t know my relationship with tamara through the years, most if not all of them don’t even know the tamara i met, was best friends with, married, and loved. so they come here and read a couple of things i’ve written while i was in the midst of dealing with betrayal, deceit, being lied to, being taken advantage of…grieving for my marriage, my future, my best friend…wrestling with loneliness and pain.
i don’t fault friendship though. friends sometimes do fscked up things, and even if you don’t agree with them they are still your friend and in most instances you try to figure out some way get past it. i know tamara herself told me several people were shocked when they found out about her having an affair and didn’t even want to be friends anymore. i’ve little doubt that attitude lasted only until the shock wore off, and they probably are friends now. like i said, i’m not faulting that aspect of friendship. but it doesn’t mean an accurate portrayal of me, or an understanding of the person i am, can be derived from that.
the fact is, i shouldn’t care what people i hardly know (or don’t know at all) think about me — but the reality is i do care about how i am represented and perceived by others. it matters to me that people generally think of me positively (unless their views are so contrary to mine that it doesn’t matter).
which wraps back to the oddity of what i do — write bare feelings, usually when i’m close to an emotionally trying time, in a public medium. i guess it’s easier when i can “hide” behind the screen.
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failure is not an option. it's a requirement.