Untitled

This is going to be harsh.

This is going to be mean, and cruel, and above all else this is going to be true. It deals with a very difficult subject, and one which I’ve avoided talking about. Reactions to this may be particularly violent; I won’t be answering my phone until Tuesday on account of this. I don’t want to hear anything anyone says as a knee jerk reaction, I want the fully thought out anger.

Let’s get down to business

My dad is having another kid with his new wife. I’ve had awkward phone calls about that from him, and from James, and I didn’t say anything committal on that subject during those calls because my views on this subject are very complex and I feel best explained in narrative text form.

One thing you must understand is that I can never be friends with Anika. I have a constant passive hatred of her for reasons that are in no way her fault. Why then? Because she’s the symbol, the proof, the embodiment etc. of my Fathers fall from grace. I, like most children, was only able to view my parents through a glorifying veil. This persisted even after he initiated the divorce.

Yes you initiated it; don’t give me any more crap about that.

I defended him out of what seemed at the time like an aversion to taking any side, but retro analysis combined with my heightened sense of clarity shows me that it was all denial. I wanted so much to believe the best. Part of me still does, but there’s too much evidence against him now. You see when he left me said to me over and over that he wasn’t leaving for another woman, he dated others before dating anika, and even though it was a fast marriage I was able to except it. Until he made one fatal mistake.

You see lying is an art form. It’s one at which I claim a particular talent. I can, and have, looked people straight in the eye and told bold unapologetic lies. I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again. As one liar to another I recognize his actions and his mistake. Telling a lie is just a combination of telling a story and acting in it at the same time. The other girls were a diversionary measure to support the initial lie. I recognize the maneuver. This sets the stage for the plausibility of the other person being a new introduction. He told me that he’d met anika shortly after breaking up with my mother at a biotech conference of some sort, and this fit well with the story he was weaving. It was all plausible, and old naive Max was more then willing to swallow it.

Some of you may have heard me make references to my “Protective Wall of Bitterness.” Now this has existed since long long before the divorce, but until recently my parents we’re inside of it, and hence immune to it’s effects.

Things change.

Dad this your official notification that you're now outside the wall, and have been for some time. The same goes for the rest of my family. I’m now the only one inside, and quite frankly I feel safer for it.

You see, he made the one key mistake. Telling a lie is all about plausibility and consistency. You told me, and Mom, and James that you’d met her two years ago, but you told your parents that you’d met her three years ago. As in, before the divorce. Now you said this at the after party of your most recent wedding, so I’ll assume your guard was down and your mind under the influence of joy and ethanol. This makes you much less qualified to lie, and hence makes this a much more reliable source of information. In case you were wondering, that’s the main reason I don’t drink (I wasn’t lying about that) The history of addiction stuff is all secondary reasons, mostly I like to keep my wits around me and I always always keep up my guard.

Once this bit of information got back around to me it all became clear. While there may have been some truth to your stated reasons for leaving they were half truths, and half truths are the foundation of a good lie.

So back to the matter at hand. The Kid. This kid will be a half-sibling of mine, and I’m not sure if I’ll bear the same inherent hatred of this kid that I do of Anika. I regret that feeling because I’m a firm believer in the power of hatred, and as such one should only have it with a good reason. I wouldn’t be surprised if I do hold inherent animosity towards the kid though, because it too will be a symbol. The final breaking away from one family is starting another, and with this he’s starting another family. He’ll have less time to be an orbital sub-member of my family because taking care of a baby is a 48 hour a day job (Note that two people working all the time can accomplish a 48 hour a day job) He may say that he’ll make time, but he’s outside the wall now so I’ll take that with a half a bag of salt and not rely on it. In the end we’ll just have to wait and see, but I’m pretty sure that however this ends it won’t be pretty.

I’m hesitant to post this. I’m writing this one in word beforehand and it seems harsh, and unduly mean to people I care about. But it has to be said. It dosn't really change anything either. I've felt this way for months now, I've just avoided talking about it becuase it makes me tired in a way, it's the feeling that I image one gets simply by being old, but being old isn't as much about biological decay as it is about having experienced a lot of life, and in these moments I experience entirellly too much life at once.

I'm also leaving this one untitled. I can't think of an adequate title, and writing and rereading this has filled me with that same sense of aged weariness. I'm going to bed now. Remember, no calls until tuesday.