Saying and Doing

A person can say anything. This is a lesson I have learned.

A person can say that I'm important to them. And then make plans to be away the weekend of my birthday.

A person can say that they want to be wherever I am on Thanksgiving. And then, as time passes, stop bringing up the fact that they ever invited me in the first place.

He can offer repeatedly to come to my house for New Year's, to meet my family. But then, later, as if he thinks I won't notice, he can tell me several times how excited he is that his friend will be in DC for New Year's Eve.

He can tell me he wrote a list of all the things he likes about me. And then, when I find that list, it can read only, "Things I Like About Kathryn" and be otherwise completely blank.

He can say that he loves having me as such a centralizing force in his life. But then mention, off-handedly, that his ex is in town and staying over. Hope you don't mind--she totally wasn't a big deal. We only dated for a couple of months.

He can invite me on a trip with him, making me feel so special. Until he mentions that when the ex stayed over--the one who didn't matter much--they watched the video of the trip that they took together. And suddenly I can feel like I'm just a videotape and a couple of photos to file with the rest in a closet somewhere.

Over and over, he can tell me that his friends are all asking, "When's the wedding?" But I can read later that he knows he doesn't love me, and that he's been unhappy for weeks.

He can know these things, about how he's feeling, and still say that he misses me. Still rent a car and drive three extra hours to see me. Still grab me and tickle me and kiss me. Still play act his emotions day after day.

And when I try to talk to him about it, he can insist that everything is fine.

Everything is fine, he can say.

Because he can say anything.

Halfhearted and dishonest and cowardly as it is, a person--I have learned--can say anything.