Backstory

I grew up a little heathen child. It wasn’t until kindergarten that I learned the Golden Rule. When the teacher asked if anyone knew what it was I raised my hand and proudly recited, “Do unto others as they have done to you.” I vividly remembered learning it from Aesop’s fables book there was a picture of a fox and a bird. I remember her being shocked and saying, “No!” I was too young to be ashamed of her look or being wrong, I was just genuinely surprised I wasn’t right.

My parents and I only started going to church because I asked to after one of my friend’s from Brownies gave me those rectangular “you’re going to hell” comic books. She also introduced me to Garfield comic books so I genuinely believed her when she said going to church was important so we could stay friends after we died.

I think this convert identity of mine explains why I get pissed when I do unto others as I would like them to do to me and then they don’t return the favor. My sense of justice is more Medea than Martyr.

I need to feel loved today. Finding out about stupid E has upset me more than I’m comfortable admitting. All my dreams last night were a filled with that unsettled feeling in my chest. I treated him (for the most part) how I wanted to be treated, and it didn’t even register on his end. It was pearls and swine. Maybe if I had grown up hearing about the Good Samaritan rather than Cinderella (the original where the step-sisters end up maimed) I could turn the other cheek. I loved those fairy tales and my heretic inner-child wants to see him choke on the pearls. I want to rip out the idiot part of me that cares and stomp it bleeding under foot.

How many epiphanies before one really gets over someone they should never have loved? I’m hoping not too many more. I’m tired.