It’s funny how it’s hard to decide which thoughts are crazy and which are not. Every morning I wake up and it’s something different. Most of the time, I can brush it aside, rationalizing it and subsequently, ignoring it. But there’s always a nagging one. A thought that, for some reason, likes to linger in my mind. It stays while I get up, while I shower, while I munch on my breakfast. If I’m lucky, work makes it vanish. Too busy crunching numbers, letters and code to worry about silly morning thoughts.
It seems it’s different this time. The same thoughts have been assaulting my
brain more and more often. Prickly little bastards invading my consistency,
poking at my very being, probing my beliefs and my knowledge. It’s even been
bothering me at work. People glance at me, I notice it more now. I used to
It’s impossible. Those people can’t be all looking at me all the
time. I must be crazy.
I mean, I know I lie. I lie all the time. It’s never with bad intentions, really. I just like to keep a facade around me, make sure all my bases are covered. Sometimes I feel bad about it. Sometimes, it hurts me. Other times, it hurts someone else. I’ve lied about almost everything so far. I haven’t cheated on her though. I would never. But that’s not the point.
The point is that what if I wasn’t the only one. What if? I don’t doubt for even a second that everybody lies, some probably more than myself. But what if she were lying? About everything? It’s insane, I know it. I don’t even have to think about it. But the thoughts remain. Every morning for a few days now, she’s been the sole person nagging at my certainties. She could be lying about anything. Who knows what she’s thinking. I can’t keep ignoring these gut feelings I get in the morning. Whether she’s still sleeping beside me or if she’s already up, lathering her perfect body in soap.
I know I shouldn’t be here. I know where she’s going. It’s Wednesday, she’s going to her German class. Why would she do anything else? Why would she lie about such a banal thing? She’ll turn left on Second Street, and stop a few houses down. Why am I still following her? She’s not going anywhere unusual, she’s not meeting anyone I don’t know. Wait. Who’s this? Who is she kissing on the cheeks? Who is this woman she’s walking up stairs with? What address is this?
It’s hard to be subtle when peering into someone’s home. I can see through the small opening of the curtains. They are in the kitchen, laughing. Is she cheating on me… with a woman? Why would she do such at thing? Where did I go wrong? I’ve been doing my best to be attentionate, nice and romantic with her. I’ve worked my hardest in bed. It always seemed to be satisfying for her as well. What else could she be looking for in someone else? Wait, now they’re sitting, taking out books, German books!
As I walk home, I hit myself interiorily. How can I be so dumb? How can I
even doubt her for a second? She’s never shown any signs of betrayal. She loves
me! And I love her! I take out my cellphone and text her
I love you
honey! It doesn’t take any of the guilt away, but I can rationalize a sense