Birth of a Cynic

Subject : Birth of a Cynic
Posted Date: : May 12, 2006 11:26 AM

I have a cold, mean, heartless streak to me.


Most people who know me think that Im sweet, kind, somewhat innocent, and dont possess a mean bone in my body. To those people, I would like to say Im truly deeply sorry for misleading you in the way that I have.


Im really cold, calculating, manipulative, and an all around dreadful, shocking person.

Ive built bonds with certain people and eventually misguide them into thinking Im something Im not pure, innocent, and decent. When they question my actions, I make them regret it and believe that THEY are the ones who have done something wrong. THAT has everything to do with the previous blog titled "I'm a Simple Girl."


I've not done the things I said I would do. I've kept secrets. I've manipulated others. And to what end? I ask you now what would I have to gain from these actions? Perhaps I try to push others away except a very select few. People have always been drawn to me. As a child, I found that I could love anyone and everyone. As I aged and began moving so often in my life, I learned that the more I loved, the more it would eventually hurt me in the end. Still, I believed that I could love everyone. Ive always craved attention, and I do make sure I get that very thing. Again, to what end?


Ive become cynical at love. Im not sure if Ive been hurt too many times or if age has finally gotten the better of me. Im just not sure if I believe in the thought and idea of love anymore not the way I did, anyway. I can no longer love very many people. Theres my family, and there are those whom I look to as though they were my family. Thats it. Obviously at one time I must have believed in love, or else I would have no way to explain being twice divorced by the age of 26.

Maybe my problem is that I believe too strongly in romance; to be swept away and live happily ever after is every girls dream since the first time ever hearing the story of Cinderella or Snow White. And perhaps I have finally just come to the realization that a fairy tale ending just may not be in the cards for me.


Right now I would need both hands to count the number of people; men; who have told me that they love me. How many of them can I believe? How many of them HAVE I believed? There may be one or two who may think they love me, but I imagine that at some point they will wake up to realize they loved the idea of what I could be to them, and not who I am. They will realize that their love for me is an illusion, just the same as their visions of me are.


The others I imagine sit back and smile to themselves each time they say it to me. They think to themselves "I have her wrapped around my little finger" and sneer internally at that oh-so-pleasant thought.


It has taken me several years and two marriages to learn what I know. It has taken that same amount of time to discover the truth about myself. Men that used to smile to themselves with such a though after saying three little words were very right about me for a very long time. If they said they loved me, I was all theirs. I wanted desperately to be loved. Thats not really the case anymore. I think I am content to once more ride the waves of the stormy sea we call life and having my heart attached to the wrong person would only hold me back and pull me under the water.


Maybe Im not too harsh about love. Maybe Ive finally discovered the value of my own heart and have become more selective about who I give it to. Perhaps I would prefer to think about it in that manner instead of the former more negative approach. Is my heart cynical, or saved? Whatever it is, wherever I stand, for right now I stand alone and I'm happy about it. Im amazed that I am this happy, but I am. I depend on nobody but myself for the first time in my life.

I do love, and am capable of loving... no matter what some may say or think about me after reading this. Do not judge another so harsly as to think that I am heartless. I admit freely that I can be cold, calculating, and sometimes rather manipulative, but from where I stand, it can be viewed as self defense.


There is one, though... he's managed to sweep me off my feet even from a distance. I've not placed my heart in his hands because I've never met him in person, and yet he has it completely. He is the mysterious blue eyed stranger, and I'll love him until I die.