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I'm a hopeless romantic at heart; it’s hard for most people to believe because I am, at the same time, very rational. I used to think being rational was a good thing – and it is, but I’ve learnt that it’s not good for a woman to be more rational than she is emotional.
My therapist friend told me one time;
“Rational thinking is a result of life experience. We aren’t born rational. Life happens to us and we learn to prioritize reality in a ploy to protect ourselves from that same reality. But it’s fear driven. You focus on the fear so that you learn to maneuver it, all the while missing out on all the other things life has to offer you. It’s a defense mechanism. You need to take the time to figure out whatyou’re protecting yourself from and why you still need to protect yourself from those things.”
What she didn’t tell me was that great advice doesn’t always lead to the best outcomes. And now, here I am seated in a hospital chair, 6 steps away from my boyfriend’s hospital bed, watching him writhe in pain, and struggling with cognitive dissonance.
He’s in that bed because of me. Nobody else knows it. Maybe he suspects so, but he’s been passed out for the last 4 days, I don’t think he can even think… and if he can, he better be regretting his decisions! The liar.
Why do men lie? If they’re not lying, they’re omitting vital pieces of information and leaving you with barely-there truths. I don’t understand it. Lying is an insult to one’s intelligence. It’s disrespectful.
I digress. Nobody knows it was me. The police interrogated everyone but could not link the fire to anyone, so they wrote it off as a case of negligence.
I don’t like to lie and I don’t do it often but I am a very good liar. I learnt how to be one ages ago. It got me out of trouble, and it also kept me out of trouble.
I told the police exactly what I did that day. I admitted that I was there twice that day. First at 7.30am to check on him and make him some chicken soup. He said he wasn’t feeling too well. I, the loyal girlfriend, dropped in and cooked, and still made it in time for my 9am class. Bravo Gina!
Later, I got a call from his friend asking where he was and that he was not taking calls. I explained. Friend had a package to be delivered to his house but since Mr. Man was out of reach, the parcel was delivered to me.
I also tried calling. No answer. So I sent a message.
Me:“James sent a package. I’ll bring it at about lunch time.”
Him:“Interesting. I wonder what it is; must be those shoes I ordered. I’m not home though, dragged myself to the hospital to get checked.”
Me:“Oh dear. Why didn’t you tell me, I could’ve come and taken you! Where’d you even get the energy?”
Him: “Baby girl, it’s fine. Besides, you were in class, didn’t want to interrupt. Doc’s calling. Gotta go.”
Me:“Coolio. I’ll drop the package off anyway. I still have a lunch break. Will you be back by then, you think?”
Single tick. He didn’t see that last message.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was lying. But, I gave him the benefit of the doubt and ignored my suspicions.
Class ended earlier than anticipated, so I had a little more time. An excellent opportunity to go check on Mr. Man.
I called again, like any decent human would; but the number I called was not available at that moment. I was to try again later.
“Oh well, I suppose he’s still at the hospital getting IV’d up or something.”I told myself as I opened the SafeBoda app and punched in his home address.
In 20mins I was at his door. The house was locked up, so he most definitely wasn’t there. I have a key – apparently that’s a girlfriend privilege.
