This NIN lyric popped into my head just now. In so many ways, I feel like I kept "making up" the good, loving, true, emotionally deep, caring, charming person---kept "making up" that side of her, even when all the
kept telling me it was just one of the many, many masks she wore, all to achieve a certain goal when it suited her mood, her need.
But I chose to keep creating and re-creating the beautiful side of her, the one I loved so much, despite all the horrible pain, shame, humiliation, discardment, and abuse.
It all seemed so real.
I wish I had understood what she meant when she kept telling me she felt like "an alien". She was always calling herself an alien. I used to think it was a kind of endearing self-effacement--a sign that she was humble, felt a little socially awkward, etc.
Her smugness and self-aggrandisement, self-entitlement, lack of empathy---it killed that notion---but it was a slow, slow death.
I still think that beautiful side of her is the "real" side. But every side of her is just as real---all of them compartmentalised. All of them switching on and off at will, depending on the circumstance.
Too many masks. Too many lies. Too much pain.
