Betrayal

I once heard a fable of a girl who was visited at a young age by a menacing genie. To her, he proposed an interesting choice; would she prefer an idyllic life in her youth and one of tribulation in her later years, or would she rather the situation to be reversed? After some thought, her choice was to face the trials in her youth, saving a happy life for maturity. Thus, she endured one tragedy after another, losing both parents in tragic accidents and suffering a myriad of other afflictions. Magically at some point, then, this genie’s vicious appetite for suffering having been slaked, a turning point occurred. Forced to fulfill the end of his promise, her life became all that could be hoped for, remedying the painful past.

At times I have wondered if this story were meant for me, and if so which of the choices I had made, or, indeed, whether I had even been given the choice to make. For in so many ways, I had the perfectly idyllic childhood. Painted in such bright colors and smiling, happy memories, I lived a life that could cause envy in many others. Yet I remember a distinct moment in college, likely after my sister’s accident, that I saw with startling clarity the difficulties that had slipped in during my youth, posing as normalcy. I began to become affected by them, embracing instead this notion that my life had been tipped in the direction of difficult trials as opposed to contented bliss.

Had my choice therefore been made for a happy adult life? Possibly, or at least I could hope.

For deep down I had always believed this fairy tale, assuming that you had but one option in your life. At which point did one face affliction: earlier or later? Life, however, has proved this assumption to be highly erroneous. Betrayal and perfidy pay no heed to your past.

This probably shouldn't be posted as a blog, but this hurt drives me both to write and to attempt some feeble reconnection with those whom I love.

I'm sorry to all the people with who I have not yet contacted. I have indeed, as my dear cousin Amber recently noted, fallen off the face of the earth. From my former promise to write everyone, I have gained more emails in my inbox (currently 191) and have responded to few, if any. Emily, Tuesdays just aren't the same without you, even six months later. Sacha, an email waits in my drafts box for you; what can I say to a dear friend who I miss so much? I missed Amber's graduation from law school. I missed my sister Ashley's birthday. I missed my dad's birthday. I missed mother's day. And I will miss my cousin Amy's wedding.

Meaghan asked me the other day if I had just forgotten, as she had forgotten her parents' anniversary. No, I have never forgotten. I remembered on and before the days. I just haven't had time. It's a feeling I hate only slightly less than having too much time, as was my situation when I wasn't working.

I love you all and miss you deeply. I am fine, in most respects. Doing quite well, actually. Damp cheeks may belie such an assertion, but my smile remains. The show must go on. I hope to see you all soon.

Love Aub