The First Betrayal (1/16/09 Friday)

With a full day yesterday in which to ignore Julie, I succeeded beyond my worst nightmares. By the end of the evening she was turning her back on me. I looked past her and through her several times--times where I would normally have given her at least a weak grin. But I can't force that grin anymore, and to look her in the eye without it would frighten her with its candor. I'm not pleased with what I'm doing. I don't feel any kind of power or glee, even of the malicious kind. I've killed something.

I have memories, once fond but now painful to recall, of a time before I'd put a name to my feelings by writing them, when Julie did engage me, if only in tiny, playful, friendly ways. Trusting ways. I betrayed a trust by wanting these things to be more meaningful. It's her trust I killed. She gave what she wanted to give, and it wasn't enough for me. There's no getting back that trust. I feel sick at what I've done. I now know why I was never comfortable with my hope.