Snarkattack

But with ‘L’, which in this case stands for ‘lovebug’, I find nothing but evidence to show just how deeply bathed in mauvaise foi I seem to be. In so doing, my human (but unforgivable to me) weaknesses stand out like cheap neon beacons carelessly installed with fervour best left in the 80s.

In effect, we have a snark against myself - my weaknesses, my ability to sustain these extended periods of mauvaise foi and apparently still fail to ‘keep’ my object of affection.

Here is a list of the so-called existentialist crimes (I haven’t figured out how the damn ‘list’ or bullet point function works properly, so bear with me).

i. Entertaining the notion that L one day might love me. To date, tangible evidence of this is non-existent. Less concrete evidence? May be wishful thinking on my part.

ii. Choosing to believe that L will eventually tell his family that he was seeing me. To his family and friends, I do not exist and am an embarrassment. On the few occasions him and I have been out in public together, should someone see or address him, I become invisible. The first time it happened, I nearly cried. I should’ve! It would have looked funny.

iii. Rationalising his lack of interest in my friends as him being too busy. Him not seeing me as often as I’d like because he was too busy. I didn’t want to admit that I was less important. Who does?
NB. I just found out recently that his limited time spent with me is apparently due to his decreased enthusiasm and enjoyment of my company. If you put your ear on my chest, you can actually hear the heart fracture into itsy bitsy pieces.

iv. Believing for a split second that he might actually move in with me. A few months ago, an opportunity did arise. He couldn’t afford to, but deep down he wasn’t considering it! Who am I kidding? But it was a nice dream to hold onto, especially after my ex-boyfriend basically told me that no one would be dumb or crazy enough to ever want to live with me.

v. Pretending it doesn’t upset me that he never remembers my birthday, or other really important things I tell him.

vi. Ignoring the hints that L having a relationship with me was a chore (hey, bonus for me! I was actually right about this one!). He told me he looked forward to band practices on Saturdays and most certainly did not feel the same enthusiasm for seeing me.