This is what my life has been reduced to

the truth can't hurt you it's just like the dark?

See, the problem with this is I'm afraid of the dark Always have been. The dark was put there as a hiding place for werewolves to strategize their attack moves on innocent and unsuspecting sleeping/walking girls. Um, not sleepwalking girls. That is a separate concern, although no less valid than werewolf attacks on those who are conscious. The fear of werewolves has always been in my head ever since I can remember. I *still* sometimes have to sleep with a nightlight. At twenty-seven years old, this is understandably embarrassing. So don't tell anyone, imaginary blog fans. k? k. It wasn't until I had another person in my bed for an extended period of time that I learned to get comfortable without the sleeping light, mostly out of necessity. Because the boyfriend was not exactly cool with leaving the hall light on and the door ajar and I couldn't bring myself to admit that I actually owned a legit nightlight. But now that I am sleeping alone again I have to whip it out on particularly shadowy evenings. You know, when the trees are knocking on the windows and the wind is rattling the doorknob? All right I live in a basement so the only part of a tree capable of rattling my windows would be the root system and as far as I know root systems don't do much rattling.

I think I have arrived at a destination so far away from the point of this entry that I am tempted to just wrap it up right here and call this one Crazy Werewolf-fearing Lady Blog. But I wont. I wanted to address a somewhat serious topic that I learned a valuable lesson about today. A lesson about trust and honesty. So I'm a little  sorry for leading with the I'm a crazy lady who fears mythical creatures bit. My bad. I will allow you this moment to switch gears. Serious business time people. Ready? Good.

I have, previous to tonight, been ridiculously dishonest to pretty much everyone close to me. I was lying to my roommate, ex boyfriend, old roommate, childhood pal; all of whom I considered to be very close friends. The one person I was actually honest with was crafting a web of lies along side mine. I thought our webs were supposed to be identical because we wanted to protect each other. I was spinning and spinning and my tangled mess of deception kept getting bigger and bigger until it was all I could see. I was suffocating in my web but I kept spinning, desperate to save myself and my partner in crime. I thought it I could just find a way to tuck the ends of my hirsute creation into itself then I could stop spinning, stop lying, and cozy up inside with my dishonest pal. This, of course, was fantasy. The reality of the situation was that everyone of the aforementioned close friends could see through my frantic attempts at deceiving them. And they were pissed.

What was my pal up to during all of this? My flocculent mass of dishonesty had grown so large that I could no longer see what he was doing. Turns out, he had a very different strategy. The iniquitous motherfucker was slicing off bits of his crooked labyrinth and doling it out, piece by piece, to anyone who mattered. And his version read like a smear campaign against me. I was lying to everyone except a liar, who I foolishly trusted. And he did what liars do: continued to lie. Threw me under a bus. So there I was, pancake flat and covered in bus tracks. I knew I had reached the end of the line. And I came clean. I poured out my story, laid every terrible thing I did out on the table and apologized profusely. It was an incredible experience to unravel that mass of deceit and throw it away from myself. Not to pretend it didn't exist or that I wasn't the creator, but to acknowledge my monster and declare out loud that I would no longer be feeding it. I knew I was potentially losing everyone I cared about but that feeling of complete and total honesty is something I wish I could bottle up and carry with me everywhere. Metaphors aside, that is exactly what I am trying to do. I am starting over with everyone I know, and, even though we may never be where we once were with each other, I am a better person for it.


EDIT: I just realized you fuckers probably have no clue what I am talking about, and I promised to stop doing that. So, here's the situation: I slept with my best guy friend, who also happened to be my best girl friend's ex boyfriend, and who I had secretly been coveting since long before the two of them even met. And he turned out the be a bit of a dick bag. And she is still one of my favorite people.