Grins and Lies

I was upset about something today (as usual). G-- asked me to tell him what was wrong (unusual). I couldn't; I barely know myself. Everyone always says they want to know what I'm thinking, but if by chance I trust enough to tell them it's pretty much a guarantee that I'll end up with one less friend/ lover/ "concerned" relative.

I'm very afraid that all my stupid past decisions are going to keep me stuck in this lifeless life. Time goes by and everything changes, but my life remains stagnant.

I quit school because I just didn't see the point. Not because I didn't like it, or didn't find it interesting (although I didn't), but just because I didn't care. Because no matter how well I could have done I never would have believed it was good enough. The anxiety still would have been there; the pressure still would have been there; the fear still would have been there. I have a sneaking suspicion that my life is destined for failure, and I think subconsciously I quit halfway through everything so I'll have something to point to when I end up 30 years old living out of a trailer park in the town I never left, watching Soap Operas, all pissed 'cause I'm working the late shift at Wall Mart that day and I start to ask myself, "why?". It's so much easier to accept the failures in life if you can convince yourself they were a choice.

Needless to say, I didn't tell G-- any of this. I learned a long time ago that people aren't interested in how you actually feel. They ask, but all they really want is a smile, an affirmation that you feel just fine, that you might be a little stressed about school, or work, or the few pounds you put on over the last month or so, nothing serious. Nothing real. I've learned to smile through the worst pain, trivialize the most serious of problems, look nice, grin big, act like I don't care. The tears only slip out sometimes, and even then I make sure no one sees.