Lately, I have been trying to grow up. I have been trying to be more magnanimous, more generous of spirit, more serene. I have been trying not to get caught up in petty disagreements, not to spring to judgement, not to blame, not to maliciously over-simplify.
It was going so well.
And then someone in my life was diagnosed with cancer. Lung cancer, with metasteses to the bones. Horrible, right? I have been trying not to imagine the drowning, gargling end, the cleaver-deep pain--a nightmare waiting to happen. I have been trying not to think about these things because I think he deserves every last, painful, gasping moment.
Kind of flies in the face of my goals in paragraph 1, eh?
He is someone I met about 20 years ago and have had regular contact with since. There is a lot about our relationship that is contrived--there are plenty of templates and examples around, in life, in the media, in art to build this lie upon. He believes that we have a relationship at one end of the sincerity spectrum and I believe we are far at the other end. I lie to him constantly. Every time I see him, email him or talk to him. I let him believe gigantic untruths, allowing his assumptions to paint a cheery picture in his head. I tell myself lies, too, to get through these moments. I have to manufacture a sliver of reality in my head where he is the guy he thinks he is and where I am dumb enough not to see through it. I swallow his bullshit persona of 'life of the party' and 'elderly hipster' and 'father of the century.' I laugh at his jokes (except the hateful ones). I listen to his advice and opinions and nod along, letting his fog wash over me.
I play the game, as much as I can. I put on my disguise as I ring his doorbell and afterward, take it off in the car, before we are out of the driveway. I shake out the crabs and fleas and cockroaches, the rot and the grave wax and release my frustration on the dashboard. I hate this game, but I play it all the same.
I play it because it is easier for the other people in my life, if I do. I am late to this party. Other people have been putting up with him for far longer than I. There are defined roles and they are all limited. It is not my place to changes these rules that are older than I am.
He is an old man, fearful and in agony and alone. He is pathetic and pitiable. He is needy and helpless and bewildered. He knows he is going to die--soon--and he is terrified.
And I am glad.
I am gleeful that he having an isolated, agonizing death. I am grateful that his dying is traumatic and lengthy. In these things, I am comforted that sometimes, the world seems to be in balance.
How so?
This man is a child molester.
Of at least one child. (Oh, god, please let it only be one child.) For years. And years. And years.
Most of his fear and isolation is of his own making. You cannot victimize someone repeatedly without putting up huge walls around them and yourself. You cannot create a climate of complete control and impunity without being truly alone. And if you can make actions such as his routine and agreeable to your conscience--your grip on the truth will slide down the toilet with the rest of your putrid effluvia.
So, in this way, we lie to each other. He pretends to be a 'pillar of the community' and I pretend I don't want to vent my eye-bleeding outrage with a lighter and bamboo slivers. We play the game with our masks of civility and our code of conduct. Occasionally, one of us slips--his attempt at 'here's what porn I'm surfing' chats or slapping my ass in greeting; my natural sarcasm slipping though--and we have to realign ourselves to the game that we have agreed to play.
And yes, I see the irony. I want to be 'good,' more honest, cleaner but I am caught in a game of 'who can lie better' and 'let's maintain the horrific status quo'. My disingenuity is improving. I can lie better, stronger, faster than before. In agreeing to protect other people, I am also protecting him. In trying to do the contextually 'right' thing, I am, myself, honing the skills that I hate in him. Damned if I do, eh?
Serenity? Hard to come by. Judgement? Got lots, thanks. Generosity? I'll get back to you...
Accepting my feelings? Honouring survivors? Making it work, minute to minute? Working on it. And doing fairly well, thank you very much.
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