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neesh
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For the first time I am beginning to regret. I regret not being angrier with people. I regret not being brutally honest with people. I regret acting reasonable even when other people were being far from it. And these are people that mean nothing to me. The way I’ve treated the people who matter to me is the way I’ve treated them, and I can’t be expected, nor can I expect myself, to have treated them differently. I regret that I didn’t have a go at the people who thought they were good people and thought that that should enititle them to something. I didn’t do it because I’m a better person, and I didn’t want to have to make that apparent to them. I should have told them where they were being hypocritical, where they were downright wrong, as well as telling them what they do well, what they do right. The only person I have had a go at was Nik, because he’s such a persistent bugger sometimes, and wears my patience. But why should I have been patient with any of the others?
If I truly didn’t care, I wouldn’t care to keep them happy by lying to them. Or not being honest with them, which isn’t but should be the same thing. I feel like having a go at one of them now, I feel like being completely honest with one of them for once. I don’t have the opportunity though, having blocked all my contacts and shut them out of my life, because they sicken me so. I certainly have changed. I’m a pacifist and yesterday I wanted to punch someone. Anyone. The only people around were Callum and Matt, so I decided I didn’t want to punch anyone after all (admittedly I was at a Metallica gig…). And now I feel like being completely honest with someone, which would probably be equally damaging for them.
What mostly prevents me venting myself now and hereafter, is that everyone at school is so shockingly behind-your-back. If they have a problem with you, they won’t tell you, they’ll tell their friends. Which I think is hilarious, because even the ones who know that noone is themselves at school do this. I was amazed once when someone told me their opinion of me, which I had to push him to (his way being typically to hint at things then say nothing more; he annoys me more than most, but probably only because I know him slightly better), and he knew truly nothing about me, and had decided he could judge me from that. He’d decided that what he’d heard from other people about me and from our never having spoken or interacted, he knew me better than I knew myself. Well done, that’s really smart. For one thing I know exactly who I am; there are few people as self-aware at the age of 18. And for another, if he wants to judge me, fine, I’m very happy with that – I advocate the kind of moral clarity that judges character accurately – but if he wants to judge me with no facts, then all I can say is he’s a bit of an idiot really; he only needed to talk to me and I’d have been truthful with him, and he could have seen who I am, and then judged fairly.
What a strange man. Of course, I have no problems with people at school; they mean nothing to me, save a very few. I cite the above simply as an example of the mire of idiocy I inhabit. And he’s quite smart too, and should be commended on having some sense of morality; he’s much better than most of the others.
I regret that it’s too late now. I regret that I decided to be polite instead of good, instead of myself. Well, school’s over soon, and then I’ll never see any of them again, except the good ones, who I care about, and who care about me. (The good people in our year are: Callum, Matt, Nina, Nikhil, Eleanor, Dinos and myself, of whom all but Dinos care about me, since he and I are very different, and just mutually respect each other.)
What hurt most was the girl I love used to give such a shockingly negative representation of me (I don’t know if she still does, but I presume so), because she was afraid to be honest about herself with others. And how I treated her was intrinsically tied up to who she was. I put up with everything of hers, made sure she always knew she meant the world to me, not necessarily because that’s how I would treat someone I love (it would be a bit much, a bit false; I know you have to be your true self with the one you love), but because that is how I treat someone whom I care for deeply who is suffering from depression. Close to everything I did was designed to cheer her or forestall and prevent future sorrow. Because I was scared for her, and I could help her, far more than anyone else was capable of helping her. And so people would see me treating her thus, and think me a sycophant, and I wasn’t going to tell them why, and she did more than not dispute it.
She is happy now and I put up with nothing from her. She is going to cause me pain, that is indisputable. And so I would rather I took the pain of leaving her than faced the pain of her tearing into my soul.
So here I am, completely alone, save for my regrets.
And I regret that I didn’t rush in to defend Matt, because I was planning on never using blather again (it was after all, Harriet who introduced me to it, but I don’t think she reads it any more), which was particularly condemnable of me because lately he’s been backing me to the hilt in the real world, supporting me more than any of my other friends, and generally proving how amazing a guy he is in the way he’s been there for me when I’ve needed my friends most.
And if you do read this, Harriet, then I expect you’ll probably tell everyone from school that I’ve blocked them, and they’ll hate me and begrudge me behind my back, but I don’t really care. And if you learn something more about who I am, then good, and if you learn something about who you are, then all the better.
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