"Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive"
We practice to deceive in many ways through out our lives. Mainly, I think we try to deceive people around us to some extent, whether it's intentionally or through omission. We might just choose to keep certain things to ourselves because we're afraid of how people may treat us; we might purposely deceive people because we want them to see us in a certain light or have a certain image of us; we might lie because we're ashamed of who we are or what we do. There are many many reasons why we practice to deceive. There is not a single person on this earth that has not at some point in time lied about one thing in their lives or about themselves.
But...there's a difference between lying to other people and lying to ourselves. Even though it's a dangerous habit to fall into, deceiving people--mainly because it does come back around and you normally get caught in your deception--it seems to me that it would be even more dangerous to build up a life of lying to yourself about who you are or what you want.
And it's the easiest lie of all of them...to close your eyes and just pretend that what is so blatantly in front of you isn't really there. It's like a child, wishing away a monster, except that we're not children, and the monster is something unavoidable that we inevitably must face.
So what is the lie that you are facing or attempting to ignore?
I realized today while leaning against the elevator wall and rising from one to four that I'm lying to myself about many things, but mainly this one thing: what I want from a relationship/life.
I've told myself (and others) over and over again that I don't want a boyfriend, I don't want a long term relationship, I just want someone that I can pounce on and have my way with, that the physical satisfaction is more than enough for me, that I can make it by as long as I have someone I can randomly meet up with and enjoy.
But again, on the elevator today, ignoring the weird fluttering in my stomach that accompanies the ride, I closed my eyes and flashed back to Oct 1, the night that I feel I became a woman, and instead of instantly remembering the heady orgasms, I immediately think of laying on my side with his arms wrapped around my chest and his feet intertwined with mine, bodies pushed tight against each other, physically impossible to get any closer. And then rolling over slowly kissing each other while still tangled in each other, and feeling so safe and secure, as though waves could come crashing down on me but being in his arms would somehow shelter and save me.
The realization? No, the physical stuff isn't enough--not even close. I can wish that it would be...I can wish that it would satisfy me completely instead of leaving me yearning, desiring more, but it isn't enough. It's just a taste, a tease, a promise of what should come instead of being fulfilling and satisfactory. So I lie to myself and make a promise that it's going to be okay, that enough of these endeavours will keep me happy and busy, but standing exhausted in the elevator after a night of tossing and turning and refusing to face the truth, there it comes, washing over me like a cold shower, the brisk reality--this just isn't enough.
It might just squeak me by the long winter months, but there it is--the lie. The lie that I will be completely happy with just the bare minimum, the random hook ups. The lie that I don't need to be loved, that I don't need to be told that I'm beautiful or smart or witty. The lie that purely physical relationships are going to be enough.
None of it is enough. Nothing can truly satisfy you...not the most mind blowing sex, not the kindest words from a stranger, not the ambitions that slowly come true. We're all just empty jars, walking around, a bit broken open, needing to be filled by something or someone, and until we find that answer, we feel acutely the emptiness and the need.
So here we are, running around like crazy, trying to hide who we are, fake behind beautiful exteriors, and it's exhausting. We're making all these grand attempts to convince ourselves of something that deep down we know is a lie. It's such a waste of time and effort, and yet we struggle on and on, forcing ourselves into believing these pretty little lies.