My Friend, My Mask

The so called ultimate setback in life and deceiver of reality has, interestingly enough, developed into my only true companion.

True in its falsity.

I never realized it until now. And even the realization is probably a part of my friend's wicked plans. Although I don't understand the path, it is always well lit. And because I see everything, there is everything to question. The questions are set like traps, burying my mind so deep that I loose hope of ever finding a way out. It's when my mind goes blank, when no questions flood the delicate synapses of my brain, that I find the real truth. The dark void of nothing poses no fear of the future, signaling the right in my life.

I felt it many times, and have known it for all my life, but I have never actually acknowledged it until today. I fear that understanding this intricate system will inevitably become its downfall from which a new system will be born. One that I will have to relearn and analyze.

The first time I truly felt this was with my father. When I was young, the questions surrounding his blatant uncaring actions plagued me as a child. I was so hurt that he could be so cold. This spawned the ultimate question of why? Along with the idea, I inherited a natural need to please him, to rid him of his frosty core. Was it me? Was it mom? My brother? My sister? I couldn't control how they reacted, but I could damn sure control what I did.

So from that day forth I wanted to be the best son I could be. Even if his voice lifted so powerfully above mine on the nights he stumbled home from the bars. I would care for him, but it only gave him more reason to be upset. He'd curse, telling me his good for nothing son shouldn't try to help with things he couldn't understand. I ignored him most of the time, pressing my teeth together to push back the tears that had been building there every since he first spoke that horrid sentence to me two years ago on my 9th birthday. I thought it would get easier the more he said it, but the wound still held its gruesome depth.

This need to please grew into other areas of my life. I held leads in the musicals in my school, I excelled in so many areas I couldn't imagine how he could still be so bitter. I finally learned it wasn't how much I did, it was just me. There was nothing I could do or say to make him respect me, even in the least.

I became very apathetic towards him. I disconnected as much of myself from him as I could so that I might at least survive without crumbling into a blubbering mess. In the end, I have him to thank for everything. He created the friend within me that gave me hope, even if it was a mask. It at least held me over until I could create a truth suitable enough to live with. It was like having a brittle support waiting for the imported steel to cover its frailty. Most of the time I was able to strengthen my beliefs before I fell with the crumbling support. I usually created something stronger through all of my toughest ordeals. It became a habit for me. A way of life. I never knew for longest time the catalyst or why I lived this way, but I did. And it worked. Through all the pain, I knew there would be light. So I fell. I fell so hard and cried until I had nothing more to give from within my body. All because I knew there was going to be some revelation that would make everything okay. I held this faith close to me, and it had yet to fail me, so I trusted in it. I trusted so blindly that I knew my life would continue the way it was meant to be.

I still had setbacks. I thought I had overcome my father, but I obeyed the little bit in my heart that told me to not let him down. I owed him nothing, yet I still tried, after all these years.

I went to Uni. All of it his idea. I did want to be a teacher. It was the only thing I could settle with that came close to a normal life. If he knew my theatrical dreams he would deem them unfit and fruitless to my future. So I wore another mask, waiting for the stronger steel to materialize under it. I knew I would disappoint him in the end. That I would probably drop out and pursue something else. I got worried, however, towards my third year when a better path failed to fill the transparent one I now carefully walked across. I was deceived. For the first time I lost faith in my friend. In the one thing that kept me from pain. I felt so sure she was my next venture. How sadly I was mistaken. I married Colby, thinking this was my inevitable rise from my fall. I should've known it wouldn't work. There was a part of my mind that knew I would never settle down with a woman, and the ever reoccurring fear of my fathers disapproval had been the real drive for this change. Anything for my father failed, so I'm not sure why I was surprised when I found out I didn't love her. If I had waited for another three months I would've discovered the correct change in my life. It wasn't Colby. It was Daniel. The blond guitarist with sparkling green eyes. He held two things that I knew were critical in all of my decisions. 1). He would eventually give me my dream job of being a part of the arts, of entertainment... of singing. And 2). I would be attracted to him. Both of these were defiant of my father. Both of these would make me happy.

I divorced Colby and followed this new path whole-heartily like I always did. Daniel would never return the attraction, this I was certain. But to feel for him, to know that I could feel for him was enough for me. I never wished for anything more. He had Michelle. And a selfish voice told me that maybe she was *his* mask. That maybe we could become something stronger underneath. Together... we would take a separate path, hand in hand.

This was another question however, and because of this, I knew my friend was telling me it would never happen. That it wasn't where I was destined to go.

I pursued it however, not listening.

Daniel had been a spark. And because of this, I will never be able to forget him, or what he meant to me. He was always uncertain, not really committing to how he felt. He always described us with having an overly abundant chemistry for two men. He told this confidently in interviews and other such sessions when asked about our relationship. I took this as an invitation. If he wasn't rejecting the idea, it had to be a good sign right?

But this his confusion, his questioning was his own friend that kept him from a life unfulfilled. He knew this, and I sort of felt it, but was decidedly unbelieving that we could never be truly happy together. His family, his life was so full, that I would become his destruction.

I tried to convince him the end of Savage Garden would never become the end of what we were. But it did. Daniel would never find peace in the life Darren, the pop superstar, wanted outside of him. The job, the lifestyle was too much. Daniel had always been a quiet person. He needed a quiet life. He could loose everything if the world knew he loved a man. Loved. Never in love. But I had always felt a bit of pride that he could even consider me. That we, for awhile, held onto the same dream. Daniel was yet another strength for me. He was my steel that constructed my career. But he was never meant for me to love, or to be loved by. I accepted this. Knowing my path knew something I didn't. I trusted once again.

And once again. My long time friend had been right.

I lie now in the warm arms of my husband, my lover, my world.

How differently everything could have turned out.

I smile, wondering when and where my friend, Denial, would take me next.

~END