Truth

I felt so exhausted yesterday. I think it’s a combination of having driven over 1000 miles last week and also not having got used to having to drag myself out of bed so early every morning to go to work. At least I am off work tomorrow, even though it is because a surveyor is coming round.

I am having lunch with a friend today for a bit of a catch up. We arranged it earlier this week by e-mail and while we were sorting out a plan I told her about what I’d found out about A i.e. the total reinterpretation of the past (meaning blatant lies) and this bizarre belief that me applying for that job was some grand plan to get us back together. She actually knew at the time about what happened and replied and said that she was sad to hear that this was how A now explained things, but that being the case A “seriously needs some help”. I have to say that I felt kind of vindicated that someone who actually knew a lot about what happened and with whom I had discussed whether to apply for that job was so unimpressed with A. I am also seeing one of my housemates from university tonight who also knew about when the stuff was going on with A and I imagine will be equally unimpressed. I do still feel really mad about what has happened (which is an impressive thing for A to have achieved as I had never been particularly annoyed until now!). I still can’t quite decide whether to do anything about it all but at least it helps having a couple of people who knew what was happening at the time and cannot believe how warped A’s interpretation of it all is. Having said all that, as odd as it may sound, I would still stick by what I said a long time ago about having no regrets and this post still stands. A bit bitter now? Yes. Regretful? No.

I will actually try and post something here about the role of the narrator in telling a story, which is something I mentioned a few weeks ago, but while we were away on holiday we were listening to the talking book of ‘The Blind Assassin’ by Margaret Atwood. That is a very long book in unabridged form, let me tell you – over 18 hours. Anyway, that had a really interesting quote in it which said:

“The only way you can write the truth is to assume that what you set down will never be read. Not by any other person, and not even by yourself at some later date. Otherwise you begin excusing yourself. You must see the writing as emerging like a long scroll of ink from the index finger of your right hand; you must see your left hand erasing it.

Impossible, of course.”

Most interesting and is now sitting there in the back of my mind seeing how it fits with my other thoughts on the role of a narrator. Further food for thought.